m 
 
 UC-NRLF 
 
 111 
 
NOTES 
 
 A RESIDENCE AT ROME, 
 
 IN 1846. 
 
 BY A PROTESTANT CLERGYMAN, 
 REV. M. VICARY, B.A. 
 
 * r OF THE *-rj. 
 
 UN/VERsiTy 
 
 LONDON : 
 RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 
 
 1847. 
 

 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Mediterranean. — Genoa. — Leghorn. — Elba. — Approach 
 to Rome. — Design of the Work. — Appearance of the City. — 
 Churches. — Jealous Policy of the Government. — Description of 
 the Churches. — Their Ornaments. — Relics 1. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Churches. — The Dome. — Its Paintings. — Monuments. — Ple- 
 naria Indulgentia. — Its Tendency and Consequences. — Description 
 of St. Peter's. — Bronze Statue of St. Peter. — Dimensions of the 
 Church. — Basilica of St. John Lateran.v-Its Relics. — The Pan- 
 theon. — Is preserved entire. . . . . . . .18 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 \ 
 
 The Clergy, secular and regular. — Are very numerous, and 
 destined to the Church from Childhood. — The Cardinals. — Gal- 
 lery of Cardinal Fesch. — Mode of electing the Pope. — State of 
 our Relations with Rome. — Inquiry concerning the Habit of the 
 Cardinal. — Bishops. — Monsignores. . . . . .43 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Cardinal Lambruschini. — Cardinal Mikara. : — The regular 
 Clergy. — Dominicans and Jesuits. — Their Activity and Zeal.. — 
 Capuchins and Franciscans. — Convents. — Other Orders. — Nuns 
 and Nunneries. ......... 62 
 
 i n^o^o 
 
1 v CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Ceremonies at St. Peter's.— Their Effects. — Christmas. — Pro- 
 i). — Gregory XVI — Guardia Nobile. — Temporal and spi- 
 ritual Character of the Pope.— Papal Benediction. . . .82 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Ceremonies at Easter. — The Pope receives the Eucharist 
 sitting. — Elevation of the Host. — The Pope blesses the People 
 from the Balcony of St. Peter's. — Church of the Augustines. — 
 Statue of the Virgin. — Is much celebrated. — Its Offerings. . 101 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Procession of the Circumcision. — Espositione della Santa Vir- 
 gine. — Clerical Converts. — Probable Origin of the Procession. — 
 Procession of the Host 117 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Paintings: Subjects chiefly Sacred. — St. Anthony preaching 
 to the Fishes. — Picture of St. Denis. — The Sistine Chapel. — The 
 " Last Judgment." — The Miserere. 1 33 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Adorazione della Vera Croce. — The Spear. — The Nails. — The 
 Crucifixion.— The Sudario. — State of Religion at Rome. — Her 
 Prospects. — Adoration of Relics. — Relics, Indian and Egyptian. 
 — Absurdity of the Practice. . . . . . .149 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Relics continued. — Observations on. — St. Apollonia. — St. 
 Stanislaus.— Portable Relic— Scalae Sancta? : Remarks concern- 
 ing.— St. Ranieri, Pisa.— Santa Clara 163 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Respect to the Virgin. — Her Altars and Pictures. — Inscrip- 
 tions. — Worship of the Virgin. — 'Miraculous Conversion of a 
 Jew at the Church of St. Andrea del Trate. — Bronze Statue of 
 the Virgin near the Church of Santa Maria Maggiore. — II Volto 
 Santo. 183 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Burial of the Dead. — Obsequies. — Mortality Societies. — 
 Monuments. — Inscriptions. — Chapel of the Capuchins. — Italian 
 Cemeteries. — English Burial-Ground. . . . . .199 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Palaces of the Pope The Vatican. — The Lateran Palace. — 
 
 The Quirinal. — Prisons. — Populace of Rome. — State of the 
 Country.— Its Policy 213 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 English Church. — Toleration. — Contrast between Tuscany and 
 Rome. — Colleges. — College of the Propagation of the Faith. — 
 English, Irish, and Scotch Colleges. — Ghetto. — State of the Jews. 227 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Ordination at St. John Lateran 's. — Ceremonies. — Festa di St. 
 Giuseppe. — Lives of the Apostles. — Figures and Frescoes. — 
 Church at Lucca.— Costume. — Picture expressive of the Power 
 of the Virgin 249 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 The Colosseum. — Its Extent. — Is consecrated. — Illumination 
 of St. Peter's 266 
 
VI CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Castle of St. Angelo. — II Girandola.— Object of public Repre- 
 sentations. — The Carnival 282 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Modern Rome. — Population of Ancient Rome. — Malaria. — 
 Pincian Hill. — The Corso. — Palaces. — Egyptian Obelisks. — Os- 
 tentation of the Popes. — Markets. — Fountains. — The Tiber. — 
 The Capitol. — Fomm. — Arch of Constantine. — Arch of Titus. — 
 Temples. — Convents. — Concluding Observations. . . . 295 
 
NOTES 
 
 OF 
 
 A RESIDENCE AT EOME. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE MEDITERRANEAN. — GENOA. — LEGHORN. — ELBA. — APPROACH 
 
 TO ROME. — DESIGN OF THE WORK. APPEARANCE OP THE CITY. 
 
 — CHURCHES. JEALOUS POLICY OP THE GOVERNMENT. DE- 
 SCRIPTION OF THE CHURCHES. THEIR ORNAMENTS. — RELICS. 
 
 After the long and harassing journey through 
 France, the monotonous scenery of which supplies 
 but little to relieve the tediousness of the way, — 
 where the reminiscences are not of romantic beauty, 
 but of diligences, hotels, and dishonest bills, — how 
 delightful it is to find oneself upon the blue Medi- 
 terranean, with a sky above us that tells we are 
 fast approaching the sweet south ! The moment 
 we leave Marseilles we enter into a new world ; 
 and the prospect from the quarter-deck of the 
 steamer, of rocky islets and the receding mainland, 
 
2 THE MEDITERRANEAN. 
 
 with its villas, castles, and convents, almost repays 
 the toil we have already undergone. 
 
 As "II Ercolano " advances with a rapid pace, 
 and cleaves the waters, leaving far behind her 
 track of foam, we discern some of the peaks of 
 the hills of France, or enter upon that uninterest- 
 ing part of the Continent where the Rhone pays 
 its tribute to the ocean. But even now the barks 
 plying along, some lazily with the oar, and others 
 with crowded canvas, contribute to keep attention 
 alive. 
 
 Night soon calls us to the cabin, where our 
 associates are some of the elite of old England; 
 all wending their way to exchange the murky days 
 and biting winds of their northern clime, for the 
 brilliant sunshine and flowery land of Italy. Our 
 steamer was a credit to the enterprising Neapolitan 
 company ; nothing could exceed the accommodation 
 and attention to be met with on board. If any of 
 my countrymen evince a regard for comfort and 
 cleanliness I should recommend before all others 
 the " Ercolano :" they will have cause to be thank- 
 ful for the suggestion. " Credite experto." 
 
 " Will you pass the Alps without a look ?" says 
 a fellow-passenger, as the awaking morn rolled 
 back the mists from the water, and the clouds that 
 
GENOA. 3 
 
 lay heavily upon the headlands. What a glorious 
 sight! the spirit becomes elevated, and rises far 
 above itself, as it contemplates these " palaces of 
 nature." Rugged and bare as they are, caught by 
 the eye, as far as it can reach, until they descend 
 into the ocean, piled one upon the other until they 
 end in clouds, they discover to those accustomed 
 to the lowlands of Britain unequalled views of mag- 
 nificence and grandeur. The Alp and Apennine 
 vary much in their characteristic scenery. The 
 former mount into the clouds, and seem, like an- 
 other Atlas, to bear the weight of the heavens ; 
 but the Apennines, whose feet are also washed by 
 the wave, shoot up like the pinnacles of an eastern 
 temple, tapering to points of wondrous symmetry 
 and elegance. To the "hoar Alp" Nature gave 
 boldness and sublimity, while she seems to have 
 reared " the lofty Apennine" with a greater regard 
 to finish and effect. 
 
 The glimpse of Genoa is unrivalled. It is a 
 circle of beauty. Palaces and gardens, churches, 
 towers, and terraces, meet the eye in every quarter. 
 The town is built upon a descent, and the houses 
 and streets are consequently seen to the utmost 
 advantage. As the genial sun of November shed 
 its cheering light upon the panorama before me, 
 
 b2 
 
4 LEGHORN.— ELBA. 
 
 I shall never forget how the lovely scene was 
 heightened by a musician coming silently under 
 the stern, and joining with his melodious voice 
 the soft tones of his guitar. The united influence 
 upon me was that of calmness and repose, much 
 needed after a fortnight's fatigue. All told me that 
 I had come to a land of beauty and pleasure — to 
 another Calypso's isle. Though some time has 
 elapsed, I almost hear that music still. The 
 impression it made was indelible. It was our 
 welcome to the south. 
 
 Leghorn, or, as the natives call it, Livorno, has 
 little to attract notice, save that it is a well-built 
 town and a flourishing port. What we could see 
 of Tuscany from the neighbourhood shewed a 
 highly cultivated country and a contented people. 
 The place is, however, uninteresting, lying low, 
 and having no objects to cause a moment's delay 
 to the tourist. 
 
 Elba is passed. It was night, and we could only 
 discern the high land standing in relief against the 
 moonless sky. With what interest Napoleon has 
 invested every place connected with his extra- 
 ordinary career! As long as we could catch a 
 glimpse of the dark form of the island, every eye 
 was bent towards it Once a small unnoticed spot, 
 
CIVITA VECCHIA. 
 
 the prestige of his name has connected it for the 
 future and for ever with fame. 
 
 We are at length in the dominions^pf the Pope, 
 safely moored at Civita Vecchia. It is a small but 
 good harbour, however nothing in the way of trade 
 seems to be going on. I should have expected 
 otherwise, but 1 do believe that her commerce is 
 paralysed by the unenterprising, sluggish spirit 
 which marks everything in the States of the 
 Church. The method of keeping time, by which 
 the inhabitants make themselves ridiculous, is one 
 of the peculiarities of the place.* The town is 
 small, and contains no objects worthy of note. 
 "The waveless sea" stretches on both sides as far 
 as the eye can wander, and, except a few fishers' 
 barques, bears nothing on its bosom to add interest 
 to the scene. 
 
 The distance to Rome is not long, and a few 
 hours on a road paved by the old Romans brings 
 you to the walls of the Eternal City. What asso- 
 ciations are evoked when one is about to enter the 
 capital of the great commonwealth, which for so 
 
 * In the States of the Church the day is not divided, as with us, 
 into two intervals of twelve hours. Their time runs on to twenty-four 
 hours; so that the stranger is at first a little perplexed, when asking, 
 "II tempo di giorno," to have some such answer as the following : 
 " Tredice," or, as it might happen, " Vente tre et mezza." 
 
b APPROACH TO ROME. 
 
 long a period was mistress of the world. The 
 halo that surrounds her history receives new 
 brightness, by which every page vividly returns to 
 the mind. The deathless names with which every 
 era of her existence abounded, winning their 
 fame in the field or the forum, rise before us. We 
 cannot forget that we tread the scene of the peace- 
 ful triumphs of a Horace or a Virgil, as well as that 
 once cumbered with the ruthless spoils of a Titus 
 or a Caesar. The very soil seems sacred ; and we 
 tread the stones that resound to our footsteps, with 
 something of the same feeling, but vastly more 
 absorbing and intense, with which we walk the 
 eloquent churchyard. It is the land which Scipio 
 covered with laurels, and which contains his ashes ; 
 which gave birth to Cato, and still 
 
 " breathes— bums with Cicero." 
 
 We come, as it were, to do homage to these great 
 names, and to bend over those tombs, whose lone 
 occupants have made the place the first in gal- 
 lantry and glory — " the city of the soul." Such 
 are the reflections that rise as we cross the Ponte 
 di S. Angelo, with the Tiber flowing beneath, and 
 enter the modern city. 
 
 It is not my purpose, as it would be useless, to 
 describe the majestic ruins which are scattered in 
 
DESIGN OF THIS WORK. 7 
 
 profusion around. They have had many pens in 
 poetry and prose, which describe them faithfully, 
 and leave no detail untouched. Winckelmann will 
 tell you of their antiquity, while Byron invests 
 with all the graces of sentiment and feeling these 
 noble monuments of a noble race : — 
 
 * Out upon time, for 't will leave no more 
 Of the things that come than the things before ; 
 Out upon time, for for ever *t will leave 
 But enough of the past for the future to grieve." 
 
 I hasten to another subject, to which my atten- 
 tion was directed during a considerable sojourn at 
 Rome, namely, the church, government, and cere- 
 monies. Modern Rome, as the city of the Popes 
 and the capital of the Catholic Church, receives 
 almost as much interest as the old city did from her 
 deeds of arms. It is the busy hive which has 
 for centuries sent forth her missionaries to accom- 
 plish her religious or political purposes ; and her 
 triumphs have been often as signal and as san- 
 guinary. It is the capacious nest where those 
 " Orders" have been hatched, which have enacted 
 a conspicuous part in the history of Europe, — the 
 Dominicans and Jesuits, — names as much given to 
 fame as the philosophic sects of old. At the 
 present time, also, when the Church of England 
 
8 APPEARANCE OF THE CITY. 
 
 has been assailed, and deserted by some of those 
 who should have built her up, a glance at the 
 interior of the Roman Catholic institution may not 
 be unacceptable or without its use. 
 
 Upon entering the Eternal City nothing is so 
 striking as the number of churches, which are suc- 
 cessively exposed to the eye of the traveller. 
 Enter at what gate you may, (and Rome in this 
 particular is almost a second Thebes,) and almost 
 the first object that is sure to attract your notice 
 is a church, placed probably in such a locality to 
 remind the traveller that he is arrived within the 
 city of the Church — the renowned capital of the 
 Supreme Pontiff. As you enter the Porta del Po- 
 polo from the north, immediately within, to the 
 left, you pass the handsome edifice dedicated to 
 Santa Maria ; and within two hundred yards, oppo- 
 site, you gaze at two exactly similar and uniform 
 churches, each terminating the angle of two streets 
 running in the direction of the gate; the Via Ri- 
 petta and Via del Corso. If you pass from Mar- 
 seilles by the Mediterranean, and stand first on 
 the sunny south at Civita Vecchia, as you enter 
 Rome by the Vecchia gate, the stately temple of 
 St. Peters, with its magnificent colonnades and 
 aerial dome, bursts upon the view. The gate of 
 
CHURCHES. 9 
 
 St. John Lateran leads you at once to the sujperb 
 cathedral of that name. The first edifices"you en- 
 counter from the Porto Lorenzo, upon traversing 
 the now unfrequented part of the road until you 
 enter the modern city, are churches — so perfect a 
 holy land is this, were you to judge from appear- 
 ances. But this is not all; as you diverge from 
 the gates, and go further into the city, a church 
 meets you at about every two hundred yards. 
 The number consequently is very great, greater 
 than that of any other city in the world. 
 
 I have been assured that there are three hundred 
 churches ; and a priest, whose acquaintance I made, 
 informed me, that, were it necessary " to perform 
 mass" at a new church every day in the year, it could 
 be done without any difficulty. He added, no doubt, 
 to the parochial and public churches and basilicas, 
 the chapels of the convents and palaces, hardly any 
 of which can be called private. Although the Roman 
 calendar is large, it may seem a matter of some 
 difficulty to find fresh saints, who should have 
 the honour of each church's dedication. But the 
 matter is easily managed ; the same saint presides 
 over several, the name only has some variation or 
 adjunct. Thus we find churches " di Santa 
 Maria," to •' Santa Maria en Trastevere ;" others 
 
 B 5 
 
10 CATHEDRAL OF ST. TAUL. 
 
 dedicated to St. Peter, again to " San Pietro in 
 Vincoli." 
 
 It is indeed the land of churches, as well as of 
 the Church. All the resources of the Papal govern- 
 ment are directed to the building and keeping in 
 repair their houses of worship. Instead of pro- 
 viding for the maintenance and well-being of the 
 poor, or promoting objects which may have in view 
 the improvement of the country and the develop- 
 ment of its great resources, any money that may 
 abound in the exchequer is invariably expended in 
 this ecclesiastical mania. As an instance of this, 
 for the last few years, a cathedral, only inferior in 
 dimensions and design to the great monument of 
 Michael Angelo's skill, has been building with 
 great activity, — that of San Paolo, on the Via Ostia. 
 The expenditure upon this is enormous, the build- 
 ing being coated with the richest marble ; and the 
 mosaics, paintings, and statues, which profusely 
 decorate the interior, are of a high order, so that 
 it has been found necessary to let funds for the 
 purpose accumulate, and to carry on the work only 
 by degrees. The funds which are thus uselessly 
 bestowed might with much greater wisdom be ap- 
 plied to objects of undoubted utility. To improve 
 the navigation of the Tiber from Rome to Ostia, 
 
JEALOUSY OF THE GOVERNMENT. 11 
 
 would be productive of the greatest prosperity to 
 both these cities. That classic river is only 
 navigable for boats of about twenty tons burden, 
 and has evidently disimproved from the times the 
 Caesars bore upon its waters the ponderous spoils 
 of Egypt. A railroad, also, from Civita Vecchia, a 
 distance of forty miles, could easily and expedi- 
 tiously convey merchandise and passengers from 
 that excellent port. This would be a national benefit, 
 and would, without contradiction, steadily and to 
 a large extent increase the revenue. These sub- 
 jects have been brought under the notice of go- 
 vernment, but, from the peculiar shortsightedness 
 and narrow views which have ever characterised 
 the measures of the Papal executive, they have 
 been either postponed or abandoned. The reason of 
 which is evident : th8 march of improvement,* and 
 the general change in the minds of men and 
 things which have strongly marked the last quarter 
 of a century, have been viewed with jealousy and 
 alarm by the occupants of the Vatican. They fear, 
 and perhaps not without foundation, that the ele- 
 ments of change and innovation, which have been 
 working amidst society, — in commerce, science, and 
 literature, would, if they were suffered to approach 
 
 * These remarks apply chiefly to the late government. 
 
12 JEALOUSY OF THE GOVERNMENT. 
 
 the Roman capital, be at once transferred to the 
 religious system, which, enthroned here, as a great 
 heart, sends forth its streams to so large a portion 
 of the world. Their strength consists in " resisting 
 change ; " and they are but too well aware, that, if 
 its influences were but once permitted to operate, 
 the religion of Rome, with its mitred prince, and 
 all the proud superstructure which has held in vas- 
 salage for ages both the minds and bodies of men, 
 would run the hazard of crumbling to the dust. 
 
 The method of expending the revenues of the 
 state, to which I have alluded, might be defended, 
 nevertheless, if the wants of the people required 
 those churches, and it was clear those at present 
 existing in the city were incapable of accommodating 
 their numbers. But the state of things there, is, as 
 we have seen, quite adverse <b such a proposition. 
 Fifty of the churches of Rome would be more 
 than sufficient to afford every convenience, and 
 supply all spiritual necessity. 
 
 With the exception of the older basilicas, and 
 including chiefly the beautiful structures of St. 
 Peter's and St. John Lateran, the religious edi- 
 fices of Rome, viewed from the exterior, quite 
 disappoint the beholder. They are, in general, 
 exceedingly plain, and almost devoid of ornament. 
 
DESCRIPTION OF THE CHURCHES. 13 
 
 The rich Gothic ornament, which we meet in the 
 older abbeys and cathedrals of the British isles, 
 is totally wanting. The lofty tower, or the taper- 
 ing spire, has never found favour with the Italian 
 architect. Those exquisitely carved windows, serv- 
 ing so well to admit " the dim religious light " 
 upon the sacred aisles, are not to be found. The 
 delicate tracery — the elaborate care which has been 
 bestowed upon the French cathedrals, picturesque 
 as it is in the extreme, and captivating to the eye, 
 has never found its way to the city of the Popes. 
 Upon a plain front there are inscriptions declaring 
 the saint to whom the edifice is dedicated, and 
 perhaps, also, the name of the pious builder. An 
 unpretending cross upon the summit only pro- 
 claims its sanctity. But when we open the hang- 
 ing door, and step within, the scene is altogether 
 changed. We pass as it were from a wilderness 
 to a garden —from our cold world into fairy-land. 
 A large hall, supported upon marble pillars, — the 
 purest and most valuable from the hills of Greece, — 
 terminating in a raised altar, formed with exquisite 
 taste, of the richest materials, opens upon the 
 view. Statues, the works of the most eminent 
 artists, repose in profusion around; any one of 
 which would be the wonder of the collection of 
 
14 DESCRIPTION OF THE CHURCHES; 
 
 any of our nobility. The walls are covered with 
 paintings, representing Scripture pieces, or the 
 legends of saints, beautiful in execution and im- 
 posing in effect. They are the efforts of immortal 
 names. Raphael, Guido, Annibale Carracci, Carlo 
 Dolce, Guercino, are soon and easily recognised. 
 Some of the noblest productions of the great 
 masters are to be found in these sacred reposi- 
 tories, generally as altar-pieces. And if the artist 
 or amateur departs from Rome without inspecting 
 them, one and all, he will find that the purpose of 
 his journey to this " mistress of arts, as once of 
 arms," has been but half accomplished. Indeed, 
 we owe to the monks and secular clergy that en- 
 couragement of the sister arts of statuary and 
 painting, which has left so much for posterity 
 both to imitate and admire — arts which had lan- 
 guished, or perhaps been lost during the darker ages, 
 amid the din of arms and the reign of ignorance, 
 but for the timely aid they received from the 
 discerning inmates of the cloister and the aisle. 
 Their Order itself has produced no mean painters. 
 The frescoes in several churches are by them, and 
 the works of Fra Bartolomeo at Lucca and in 
 other places have procured for the author no 
 inconsiderable name. 
 
THEIR ORNAMENTS. 15 
 
 Although in these edifices statues, perhaps from 
 the chisel of a Michael Angelo, and paintings, 
 probably the creation of a Corregio, arrest the 
 attention of the beholder, much still remains to 
 surprise and delight. The pavement is generally 
 to be found of mosaic, in which beautiful patterns 
 are worked with extraordinary care. Pictures, 
 also of the same material, will be found, having all 
 the force and freshness of the finest oil painting ; 
 with this difference, too, on its side, that it is 
 almost imperishable. Many of the mosaics from 
 the times of the Emperors are to be found in the 
 museums or in private collections, retaining un- 
 diminished their colours and beauty. So cleverly 
 are the mosaic pictures of the churches executed, 
 that it requires close inspection and a practised 
 eye to tell the difference. This especially applies 
 to the superb specimens that grace the walls of 
 St. Peter's. A copy of Raphael's chef d'oeuvre, the 
 Transfiguration, in this minute material, has been 
 considered almost a fac-simile of that great triumph 
 of genius. 
 
 But, after all, it is perhaps upon the altar and 
 chancel that the greatest care has been bestowed. 
 These are in general placed in the centre of the 
 cross of the ground-plan. Marble is mostly the 
 
16 RELICS. 
 
 material of which they are composed — but such 
 marble ! Of red, purple, or green, crossed by the 
 most brilliant veins, and finished with the highest 
 polish. In not a few the rich blue and gold of 
 the lapis lazuli is blended with the fine hues of 
 the verd antique. These are all formed of the 
 pillage of the Roman temples ; and when we con- 
 sider that the conquerors of the world ransacked 
 their empire for the purpose of furnishing materials 
 to beautify the abodes of their gods, we may con- 
 clude how rare and rich they are. Gilding, and 
 sometimes even solid gold, lend their aid to this 
 holy of holies. An ark of precious stone, of onyx, 
 or alabaster, contains the revered hostia, and 
 candelabra of various but correct designs sur- 
 mount the altar; on the centre of which, but a 
 little space behind, is to be found either a colossal 
 crucifix or an image of the Virgin. 
 
 These altars are, without exception, hollow, and 
 are the receptacles for what the monks and people 
 deem of the highest value — the relics and the 
 bodies of saints. Gilt letters upon a medallion 
 (" Hie jacet corpus" #c.,) tell who the fortunate 
 possessor may be : they are the safeguards of the 
 churches, and the treasury of the priests. In these 
 places, and not in the silent tomb or narrow grave, 
 
RELICS. 17 
 
 repose the bodies of the apostles, martyrs, and 
 canonised Popes. Some of them, upon certain 
 days of the year, the festa of the peculiar saint, 
 are exposed to the reverence of the multitude or 
 the gaze of the vulgar. Where a saint of noto- 
 riety sleeps, a small light is kept constantly burn- 
 ing, but barely visible through a small orifice in 
 the front. The sacristan will tell you that it has 
 never been extinguished from the period that the 
 earthly labours of the saint terminated. The 
 effect upon the mind is curious : we are im- 
 pressed, as it were, that the spirit of the de- 
 parted keeps watch and ward over the precious 
 relics, and gives a portion of animation and life 
 to the frail and perishing records of the dead. 
 To the unreflecting, also, it may in some degree 
 convey the notion of the soul's immortality, and 
 that, though centuries have wrapped the silent 
 ashes, the living principle has for the same long 
 period resisted their sway. 
 
18 CHURCHES. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 CHURCHES. — THE im.MK. — ITS PAINTINGS. — M0NUMENT8. — PLENA- 
 RIA INOULGBNTIA. — ITS TENDENCY AND CONSEQUENCES. — 
 
 DESCRIPTION OF ST. PETER'S. BRONZE STATUE OF ST. PETER. 
 
 — DIMENSIONS OF THE CHURCH. — BASILICA OP ST. JOHN LA- 
 TERAN. ITS RELICS. — THE PANTHEON.— PRESERVED ENTIRE. 
 
 The shape of the churches is, with few excep- 
 tions, cruciform. This seems to have been the 
 ancient figure, at least we recognise it in churches 
 of an early date. Any churches that are erected 
 in modern times are uniformly of this figure. 
 Besides the great altar, placed opposite the door, 
 there are in general six others, — at either side 
 three, — only a little inferior to the principal one 
 in size and embellishment, having each their cru- 
 cifixes, paintings, and arks : upon these the priest 
 offers up the mass upon ordinary days. Upon 
 Sundays, and the great festivals of the year, the 
 bishop, or priest, attended by his clergy, cele- 
 brate their imposing rites with all the graces of 
 motion, decorum, and order, calculated so well to 
 
PAINTINGS OF THE DOME. 19 
 
 impress the multitude, and which are to be found 
 only in their perfection at this capital of the 
 Roman Church. 
 
 Over most of the churches there is a dome, 
 in proportion to the size of the edifice. The 
 interior of this is adorned with mosaic, or ele- 
 gantly painted; and the effect is excellent, from 
 the light that is admitted at the top being dif- 
 fused equally around. The subjects, too, that are 
 chosen to decorate this part, if we except the 
 blasphemy of representing God the Father, are 
 of the most suitable kind, such as the Saviour 
 surrounded by angels, the Resurrection, and the 
 Apotheosis of the Virgin. It is upon this part, 
 and upon the roof, that we generally find the 
 paintings of God, — a practice calculated to 
 give such scandal, and so much opposed to 
 the principles of Christianity. To represent the 
 adorable Being who presides over all things, is 
 an egregious fallacy in human reasoning ; but to 
 degrade Him, who is all perfection, and of whose 
 nature we can form no adequate conception, into 
 the human form, into the likeness of sinful flesh, 
 is so palpable an error, and the tendency of which 
 is so evident, that it seems almost impossible to 
 think how men acquainted with revelation could 
 
20» PAINTINGS OF THE DOME. 
 
 be guilty of it " No man hath seen God at any 
 time." Moses saw but a symbol or emblem of 
 the Divinity: Elijah beheld no form, and heard 
 but the still small voice. To degrade, then, the 
 Supreme Spirit into "dust and ashes," instead 
 of being calculated to give exalted notions of 
 Him, has a direct tendency to corrupt the root 
 of all religion, and to weaken its force upon the 
 mind. There is, in fact, a littleness, almost 
 amounting to idiocy, in attempting to paint the 
 Creator. But when men give way to their irre- 
 gular fancies, they do not know where to stop. 
 Resolving to give the Deity a form, they adopt 
 the human, concluding that it is perfect ; whereas 
 reflection might have told them that it is not 
 necessarily perfect, since we find it but too 
 often a clog and burden to the mind, incapable 
 frequently of seconding its wishes, and, by the 
 diseases and accidents to which it is subject, de- 
 pressing, almost destroying, its immortal fellow. 
 God is generally represented as an old man with 
 grey hair. The pictures that the great masters 
 have given us of the Saviour are generally redo- 
 lent of beauty and dignity; but the attempts to 
 represent God are, as may be imagined, a total 
 failure. In the Scriptures the features of our 
 
PAINTED CEILINGS. 21 
 
 Saviour's character are so strongly marked, — 
 his meekness, resignation, and love, — that these 
 traits have been embodied by the painter's skill ; 
 and his incarnation renders the attempt easy and 
 successful. But, from the general absence of par- 
 ticular description in Holy Writ concerning God, 
 and from the inspired writers dwelling upon what 
 was of more importance to man, — his attributes, 
 his majesty, glory, omnipotence, and eternity, — 
 the painter has had recourse to the miserable 
 expedient I have mentioned to represent the Holy 
 One, about whose throne are clouds and darkness, 
 and who dwells in light inaccessible. 
 
 Another part of the church upon which the 
 architect, or the monk, has contrived to display 
 his powers of invention and embellishment, is 
 the ceiling. This, with scarcely an exception, is 
 painted with interesting pieces, in the most bril- 
 liant colours, and generally with the greatest taste ; 
 or, divided into compartments alternately painted 
 and carved, and being covered with the richest gild- 
 ing, attracts most gratefully the eye. We find the 
 significant coat of arms of the Popedom, the keys, 
 recurring frequently, perhaps with that of some 
 noble house, and the interjacent lines filled up 
 with a pattern which probably has been copied 
 
22 PAINTED CEILINGS. 
 
 from some masterly antique, brought to light by 
 modern research, or the creation of their own 
 fertile genius. The eye rests with singular and 
 undiminished pleasure upon the noble roof of the 
 church of " Ara Cceli," occupying the summit 
 of the immortal Capitol. The roof of St. Mary 
 Maggiore is all gold, having been formed from 
 the first-fruits of the Spanish-American invasion ; 
 the effect is splendid, viewed now in the great 
 hall, and now in the side aisles. In churches 
 where there has not been this display of art and 
 outlay of the precious metal, we hardly miss their 
 absence, from the finely-coloured and attractive 
 paintings which occupy their place. We shall find 
 upon this part, both of sacred edifices and private 
 buildings, that the great master has not disdained 
 to exercise his art, and confer a share of his 
 genius. The roofs of the Vatican galleries and 
 chambers have been painted, to a great extent, 
 by Raphael; some of Guido's frescoes remain 
 upon those of the library in the same extensive 
 and celebrated palace. The beautiful " Aurora" 
 of the latter also occupies the roof of the Rus- 
 pigliori Palace, on the Quirinal Hill. 
 
 It is strange that in this country so large a 
 part of our buildings, so well calculated for an 
 
PAINTED CEILINGS. 23 
 
 effective display of well-chosen subjects, should 
 be left almost universally cold and bare. It is 
 a part to which the eye constantly recurs, and 
 we easily know that one of the great physical 
 distinctions between man and the lower creation 
 is, that, from its organic formation, the eye is 
 adapted to contemplate objects on a level with, 
 or superior to itself. 
 
 This custom of painting the ceiling is very an- 
 cient, and is exclusively Italian. In the ruins of 
 the " golden house" of Nero, in the neighbourhood 
 of the " Forum Romanum," the roof of both corri- 
 dors and chambers has been evidently painted with 
 considerable skill; and even after the lapse of so 
 many centuries, they discover great beauty. It is 
 a well-known fact, that Raphael studied these ele- 
 gant remains, and copied them upon the Vatican 
 apartments. The ceilings of the houses at Pompeii, 
 the disinterred city in the Neapolitan dominions, 
 have also a great variety of scenes in oil or fresco. 
 How wonderfully had civilization advanced among 
 these refined people, when we find their abodes so 
 completely and elegantly adorned, surpassing us 
 no less in the variety and richness of their furni- 
 ture, than the profusion of ornament which both 
 courts and houses even now exhibit to our view. 
 
24 MONUMENTS. 
 
 With the monuments, I shall have completed the 
 description of the sacred edifices of Rome. These 
 are to be found in great numbers in almost all. In 
 general, as may be easily imagined from a country 
 abounding in the finest marble, and supplied with 
 first-rate artists, they are very impressive and beau- 
 tiful objects. They occupy a considerable space in 
 every church, and serve to excite reflections in the 
 devout mind, of the instability of life, and, at the 
 same time, form a fine contrast to the various other 
 objects indicative of hope and immortality with 
 which these buildings abound. The form that is 
 most observed is a slab with an inscription,- sur- 
 mounted by one or more statues. The execution 
 of some of these is admirable, and their likeness to 
 life, and representation of the passions — of grief, 
 hope, or despair — striking and correct. 
 
 The Pantheon contains the busts and monuments 
 of the great authors and painters of Italy, and may be 
 called the Westminster Abbey of Rome. Raphael 
 here reposes. The monuments of the Popes are 
 in St. Peter's, and are unquestionably the finest in 
 the world. These are interwoven with Canova's 
 genius, and are the very specimens where modern 
 art has been successful in its efforts to equal 
 ancient perfection. 
 
VAULTS. 25 
 
 There is something remarkable in the inscrip- 
 tion of the ordinary monuments. We are always 
 told, not only the years that the person lived, but 
 also the months and days. There is, besides, an 
 absence of what we might expect in the monument 
 of a Christian. It is not detailed, in letters which 
 shall defy " Time's effacing fingers,*' that they died 
 in the faith and fear of God, relying upon the Re- 
 deemer's mercy, and assured of felicity ; on the 
 contrary, we find an inflated account of the life of 
 the person to whose memory the monument is 
 sacred, with every worldly thing magnified, and 
 everything religious concealed. Nay, in some, we 
 find it gravely reported that they u danced ele- 
 gantly ;" while others describe their progress in 
 " arithmetic" at an early age. 
 
 Under all the churches are capacious vaults, 
 which are used as receptacles for the dead. A 
 round stone, of two feet in diameter, is removed, 
 and the deceased, cold and coffinless, is huddled in. 
 Extraordinary to relate, male and female are not 
 interred together ; they occupy a separate charnel- 
 house. Upon one stone, the words " Pro Viris" 
 upon another, u Pro Mulieribus" are written. 
 Thus, where the ties of affection and the bonds of 
 love have been broken by death, the kindred hearts 
 
26 PLENARIA INDULGENTIA : 
 
 are denied this last consolation, — that in death they 
 will be undivided. It affords a gloomy comfort, 
 but it is a comfort, that we shall sleep the unbro- 
 ken sleep of the tomb pillowed with those we love. 
 The heart, in its last moments of agony and pain, 
 has, in some degree, its path of terror smoothed by 
 the reflection, that it passes away to join the one 
 that beat responsive to its own, — that, as their 
 hopes, joys, fears, were united upon earth, so their 
 ashes may be mingled in the grave. 
 
 After an early examination, upon retracing my 
 steps, an object caught my eye which had at first 
 escaped notice. I observed over the door of almost 
 every church, in large white letters on a black 
 ground, the words " Indulgentia plenaria perpetuo 
 pro vivis et defunctis" This startling announce- 
 ment is generally upon a board, — like a sign over 
 an hotel, declaring what sort of entertainment is to 
 be found within. There seems to be an absolute 
 rivalry upon the subject. In some we find it 
 placed more prominently than in others ; while it is 
 not forgotten, if the letters become defaced, to have 
 them carefully renewed. 
 
 What an extraordinary announcement in a 
 Christian temple — "the utmost liberty for the 
 living and the dead !" No doubt, this subversion 
 
ITS TENDENCY, ETC. 27 
 
 of the principles of Christianity drives only at one 
 object — the replenishing of the coffers of the 
 Church. It is the prostitution of religion for pur- 
 poses of gain, and upon a subject which is sure 
 to have no lack of customers, as conscience 
 will urge millions to the absolving shrine, and 
 affection call as many to purge the ashes of 
 their dead. The words are on St. Peter's, and 
 thus are stamped with all the authority of the 
 Vatican. 
 
 If the announcement is fully acted on, the ques- 
 tion may be well asked, What are its effects ? Im- 
 morality and irreligion must, I conceive, be the 
 inevitable result. If a man under the influence 
 of sin, or committing actual crime, knows where 
 he may without any inconvenience (where there 
 is an absolute competition to serve him) wipe 
 out all these stains and scars, and return to inno- 
 cence, participating in full pardon, — if the accounts 
 he owes are settled so easily, the long bills ignored 
 by the ecclesiastical jury, with whom the heaviest 
 arguments are the best, — it is to me a great doubt, 
 whether, with youth as it were invigorated, and 
 conscience cleansed, he will not return with re- 
 newed zest to his original life ; and thus a sort of 
 holy book-keeping be kept up, the account of 
 
 c2 
 
28 PLENARIA INDULGENTIA: 
 
 debtor and creditor regularly proceeding, and as 
 regularly settled. 
 
 If individuals in courts of law could, by un- 
 dergoing some nominal penalty, have no fears of 
 the consequence of crime, and might obtain full 
 exemption from punishment, would the state of 
 society be as inviolable, and men's property and 
 persons as secure, as when that law vindicates 
 itself, and its red right arm is bared for punish- 
 ment ? It is so with human nature, — equally the 
 case with the conscience. Where punishment, 
 the dread of future recompense, can be bought 
 off on such easy terms, vice in its varied forms is 
 likely to flow with an unobstructed course, and 
 exert its evil influence upon the great mass of 
 society. The objection once made, " Who can 
 forgive sins but God alone ? " is exactly reversed 
 in Papal Rome. It is hard to know what the 
 character of Roman morality is — it is difficult to 
 read the heart. The very name of the City of the 
 Church will serve as some outward check. I 
 speak only of the genuine consequences of the 
 practice. 
 
 Although the principle involved be so opposed 
 to true religion, it is for many reasons the very 
 last thing that the priesthood would be likely to 
 
ITS TENDENCY, ETC. 29 
 
 abandon. Let as much light as possible be thrown 
 upon it, they will still cling to and clutch it. The 
 " Plenaria Indulgentia" thus openly advertised, 
 serves two important purposes in the economy of 
 the Roman Church. It gives the great body of 
 the people an exalted idea of the priesthood, and 
 being the true u thesaurus theologicus" it re- 
 cruits the finances, and oils the wheels of the 
 whole system. And then how comprehensive is 
 its circle ; it includes the living and the dead, — 
 " vivis et defunctis." No matter how unsubstan- 
 tial the theory, its results are gratifying. It may 
 be truly said of them " Quod volumus facile cre- 
 dimus" or more pertinently in the present in- 
 stance, " Populus vult decipi." Its manifest use 
 will maintain it, and the infallibility of the Church 
 comes in to check any doubt that may arise con- 
 cerning it — a mode of stifling argument, that has 
 been devised in modern times, to chain the reason 
 and the will to the chair of the Popes. 
 
 And yet this doctrine, which throws so slender 
 a veil over irreligion and crime, is a cardinal one 
 in that religious system that has fascinated some 
 of the ministers of the Protestant Church. Are 
 the prevailing motives those of the Church of 
 Rome? Do they secretly, but irresistibly, long 
 
30 DESCRIPTION OF 
 
 after the power which the former exercise — a prin- 
 ciple that gives strong impulses to weak minds — 
 or does the baser object of certain gain move the 
 springs which have influenced their conduct? 
 
 As I have principally spoken of churches in 
 this and the preceding chapter, I will add a brief 
 account of three of the most celebrated which 
 adorn the city of Rome — St. Peter's, St. John 
 Lateran's, and the Pantheon. St. Peter's, both 
 in extent and magnificence, must stand at the 
 head of all. In the sense of religious edifices we 
 may apply to it the boast, " Mater et caput om- 
 nium ecclesiarum." The architecture is essen- 
 tially Roman, comprising a lofty front profusely 
 ornamented, and an extensive vestibule, over which 
 rises the aerial dome, which bears the impress of 
 Michael Angelo's great mind. Colonnades extend 
 on both sides, judiciously concealing from view 
 some disfiguring buildings in the neighbourhood, 
 and enclosing a fine amphitheatre, in the centre 
 of which stands one of the largest Egyptian obe- 
 lisks, and on either side a fountain of very beau- 
 tiful structure. These constantly jet forth their 
 crystal stream, forming a variety of hues in the 
 bright sunshine, and descending upon the earth 
 as the gentle dews of heaven. They are, as it 
 
ST. PETER'S. 31 
 
 were, emblematical of the virtue constantly flowing 
 from the Vatican ; but the " limpid clear " is a 
 flattering representation of the form of religion 
 which has its highest altar within the neighbouring 
 walls. 
 
 There are three bronze doors, the largest of 
 which is only opened upon the great festivals. 
 The effect is sublime as you enter the interior; 
 probably roof was never placed over a grander 
 hall. The view is unintercepted until it rests 
 upon the pontifical altar, directly beneath the 
 dome ; beyond which it is again rivetted by some 
 gigantic monuments. A canopy, sustained by 
 bronze spiral pillars, ninety feet high, is sus- 
 pended over the altar, not in the least out of 
 proportion with the other vast details of the edifice. 
 The two sides of the cross* form extensive chapels, 
 still under the same roof, and making one perfect 
 whole. There are other chapels, also, on either 
 side, with their marble altars and matchless 
 pictures. 
 
 The great wonder of St. Peter's is its extent — 
 its colossal proportions. Amazement is the feel- 
 ing that is universally excited : — 
 
 * Of the ground-plan, which is the usual figure — the form of a 
 cross. 
 
32 DESCRIPTION OF 
 
 *' But thou of temples old, or altars new, 
 Standest alone — with nothing, like to thee — 
 Worthiest of God, the holy and the true. 
 Since Zion's desolation, when that He 
 Forsook his former city, what could be 
 Of earthly structures, in his honour piled, 
 Of a sublimer aspect ? Majesty, 
 Power, glory, strength, and beauty, all are aisled 
 In this eternal ark of worship undented." 
 
 All this extent is, with the utmost skill and 
 taste, adorned with unrivalled statues, paintings, 
 and mosaic. In fact nothing has been ever admit- 
 ted into St Peter's but what is first-rate in its way. 
 Here are the greatest monuments of Canova and 
 Thorwaldsen : Raphael's " Transfiguration," Guido's 
 " Lucifer," and Guercino's " St. Petroncille" are 
 copied in mosaic, almost equalling the noble origi- 
 nals. Medallions of the Popes, full of character and 
 vigour, and retaining the resemblance, no doubt, to 
 exactness, are profusely spread upon the support- 
 ing pillars. We may even mark upon the features 
 the character of the mind, — whether ambition was 
 the ruling passion, or avarice was the secret spring, 
 or whether religion has impressed upon its lines 
 the stamp of devotion. Monument succeeds mo- 
 nument, each of beautiful workmanship, of the 
 purest marble, and the most exquisite design. 
 Statues of the founders of the religious orders 
 
st. peter's. 33 
 
 occupy niches, and are expressive figures, but 
 inferior in point of execution to those I have just 
 mentioned. Among the monuments will be found 
 one to the descendants of the Stuarts, the last of 
 whom was in orders at Rome, and was styled " the 
 Cardinal Duke of York." Their titles are men- 
 tioned, and, amongst the rest, we are not a little 
 surprised to find them called " Reges Anglise." 
 
 Above is spread the roof, carved, gilt, and 
 painted. It is raised to a great height. The 
 colours are fresh, but not glowing or gaudy, nor 
 are the objects too profuse for the most delicate 
 taste to find fault with. There is just enough 
 light admitted, such as the solemn and sacred 
 nature of the edifice requires. St. Peter's body is 
 said to rest under the great altar, before which a 
 great number of lamps are kept constantly burn- 
 ing. Many of the canons pass through the aisles; 
 and here and there a devout group, engaged in 
 deep devotion, are on their knees before their 
 favourite shrine. 
 
 The chief object, however, of attraction in the 
 church seems to be a bronze statue of St. Peter. 
 This figure is seated on a chair, and raised on a 
 small platform. It is the only figure in that po- 
 sition to be found in any of the churches : from 
 
 c5 
 
34 BRONZE STATUE OF ST. PETER. 
 
 this circumstance, as well as the expression, and 
 its apparent antiquity, the conjecture of those 
 seems to be well founded, who assert that it is 
 a statue of Jupiter Capitolinus, which has been 
 re-baptized by the Pope. Be this as it may, it 
 never received more devout reverence as Jupi- 
 ter than it does now as the St. Peter. The 
 figure sits in solemnity and silence, while every 
 devout Catholic is sure to crowd around him. 
 As soon as his devotions, which take place 
 near the altar, are concluded, he rises, and 
 kisses the foot, or rather great toe, of the 
 apostle. The toe is considerably worn. Much of 
 it has disappeared by the contact of the lips. I 
 have seen a father, when he had impressed his 
 lips upon the sacred part, holding up his little 
 children to perform the same ceremony. The old 
 regime is thus handed down unquestioned from 
 sire to son. It is the most exceptionable worship 
 which I have seen at Rome. 
 
 I often considered what a figure some of those 
 clergymen who have deserted us would make here, 
 should they be called to the Eternal City. To this 
 custom of all good Catholics they would of course 
 conform : li Aut Ctesar, aut nullus" 
 
 The dome is said to be as large as the Pantheon, 
 
ST. JOHN LATERAN. 35 
 
 although it is raised above you in so lofty a po- 
 sition. It is covered with figures in mosaic, which 
 have a fine effect viewed from the church below. 
 To give an idea of its size, and distance from the 
 spectator, the pen in St. Mark's hand is ten feet 
 long ; yet the figures, to the eye, preserve all 
 their natural proportions. Around the base from 
 which it rises are written the words " Tu es Petrus; 
 et super hanc petram edificabo ecclesiam meam, et tibi 
 dabo claves regni ccelorum" 
 
 The dimensions of the church of St. Peter's are, 
 
 Greatest length . . .673 feet 
 Transept .... 444 „ 
 Height to top of cross outside . 448 „ 
 Height of the nave . . . 146 „ 
 Breadth 88 „ 
 
 The basilica of San Giovanni in Laterano is 
 celebrated as having given its name to the Lateran 
 Councils that have been held there. Attached to 
 it also is the Lateran Palace, formerly a celebrated 
 residence of the Popes. The church is older than 
 St. Peter's, having been founded by Constantine, 
 but, with the exception of one part, it is compara- 
 tively a modern building. Viewed from the ex- 
 terior, the structure has an imposing effect, a new 
 and fine front having been added. There is, how- 
 
36 ST. JOHN LATERAN : 
 
 ever, neither tower nor dome. The magnificent 
 obelisk, in my opinion, has vastly more interest 
 than the neighbouring church. This is the largest 
 to be found at Rome, is of one piece, and deeply 
 cut with hieroglyphics, from which time has not 
 taken an atom of the freshness and sharpness. 
 
 The chancel of the church is fitted up with a 
 number of seats, the ecclesiastics being very nu- 
 merous. These are also occupied by the candi- 
 dates for the ministry on Easter Monday, when a 
 solemn ordination is holden by the cardinal bishop. 
 
 The front aisle is a noble hall, terminating in a 
 picturesque altar. In the centre of the aisle is 
 a superb bronze monument of one of the Popes. 
 Statues of the twelve apostles occupy niches here, 
 and are larger than life. They are well executed, 
 and have much spirit, but the marble is of a coarse 
 nature. Some persons have said that the figures 
 are so perfect, that they only want a Prometheus ; 
 but I am by no means of that opinion. Above 
 these are beautiful frescoes ; the subject, the Gospel 
 history. The walls are rich in monuments, many 
 of them very ancient, and on this account they 
 are interesting; but they can by no means com- 
 pare with those of St. Peter's, as objects of beauty 
 or taste. 
 
ITS RELICS. 37 
 
 St. John Lateran's abounds, more than any other 
 church in Rome, with relics. Above the principal 
 altar are contained in silver busts the heads of St. 
 Peter and St. Paul. There is here also the seam- 
 less coat of our Saviour. Whether is this, or that of 
 Treves, that has called Ronge into life and activity, 
 the genuine one ? One must be false : who shall 
 decide ? Here also is preserved the table off which 
 our Saviour ate his last supper, and many other relics 
 of equal sanctity. These are exposed for the venera- 
 tion or worship of the people every Holy Thursday. 
 
 Strange it is that the Catholic world, who repose 
 confidence in relics, should question their genuine- 
 ness so little. The evidence of their identity should 
 be unbroken and unquestionable. By an un- 
 biassed mind, in such an inquiry, infallibility should 
 be esteemed for just as much as it is worth. Are 
 these the real heads of St. Paul and St. Peter? 
 At their" martyrdoms, was it likely that the in- 
 furiated Roman soldiers would preserve them care- 
 fully, when they could see no distinction between 
 them and the commonest felon ? * At the time of 
 
 * Tacitus calls the Christian religion " superstitio exitiabilis ;" and, 
 speaking of those who were brought before the tribunals in Nero's 
 time, he says, " that they were condemned not so much for the burn- 
 ing of Rome, as for being the enemies of mankind." 
 
 [Pliny 
 
38 RELICS. 
 
 persecution, could even the believers, feeble and 
 few, venture to give the bodies burial? But we 
 know the primitive Church valued the soul, and 
 not its earthly tenement — resisting unto blood, in 
 hopes of winning the prize. When the empire 
 became Christian, in the time of Constantine, it is 
 possible a search for relics might be made. But 
 who then could collect, from the countless heaps 
 of dead — from the catacombs, or the charnel- 
 house — the bodies and limbs of apostles and mar- 
 tyrs ? Roman Catholics forget that for this pur- 
 pose no less than two distinct miracles would be 
 required — one to discover them, another to preserve 
 them. The effect of the latter would be constantly 
 required. Upwards of eighteen centuries must 
 have long since reduced them to " dust and ashes." 
 A very few years reduces the body to its kindred 
 elements : the frame of that structure, the skele- 
 ton, may last a century, or perhaps longef ; but it 
 is absurd, contradictory to all experience, to think 
 that it should reach our time. If it were made of 
 
 Pliny, writing to Trajan, says, " I have asked them whether they 
 were really Christians, and, on their persevering in their confession, I 
 have commanded them to be led forth, not doubting that inflexible 
 obstinacy ought to be punished." 
 
 " Affecti suppliciis Christiani, genus hominum superstitionis novae et 
 maleficae." Suetonius, Nero, cap. xvi. 
 
THE PANTHEON. 39 
 
 iron, it had been long since reduced to impalpable 
 dust. It is vain to defeat decay or to cheat time. 
 Hence those relics that we see in the churches are 
 supposititious — of necessity frequently renewed. 
 So that, instead of a Peter, or a Paul, exposed to 
 the worship of the multitude, it is very possible 
 it may be a blameless citizen, or an unblushing 
 libertine. 
 
 Amid all the churches of Rome, perhaps the 
 most remarkable is the Pantheon. It is a Roman 
 temple which has come down to our days entire. 
 Addition there is none, although the wretched taste 
 of some Popes has despoiled it for the embellish- 
 ment of St. Peter's. It was, as the name implies, 
 formerly appropriated to the worship of all the 
 gods, as it is 'now dedicated to that of all the 
 saints. Its modern name is " Santa Maria degli 
 Angeli." It is a perfectly circular building, the 
 roof being in the form of a dome. 
 
 Its chief ornament is the noble portico, — the 
 study of the architects of every age, — the pillars 
 of which are of great size ; the order, Ionic. The 
 doors leading to the interior are colossal, and be- 
 speak the genius of the founders. On the fa fade 
 the name of Agrippa is as fresh as if it were but 
 recently cut. 
 
40 THE PANTHEON. 
 
 This temple, in fact, bears us into the midst of 
 the Romans, and it does not require much effort 
 of imagination to believe the worshipers at each 
 of the altars the patricians or plebeians of old, 
 bearing their offerings or paying their daily ser- 
 vice It contains the busts, and in some cases 
 the bodies, of the distinguished men of Italy : — 
 
 ** Sanctuary and home 
 Of art and piety — Pantheon ! — pride of Rome !" 
 
 This temple has undergone but little apparent 
 change from the use to which it was formerly 
 devoted. Jupiter, Mercury, and Juno have taken 
 to flight, but the self-same pedestals and shrines 
 have found new occupants in St. Joseph, St. 
 Anne, and the Virgin. It is to be hoped that the 
 Roman Catholic makes the due distinction between 
 the sign and the thing signified ; but it is very 
 difficult to draw a reasonable line of distinction 
 between the old and the modern worshiper. Says 
 a modern tourist, " The great and invisible spirit — 
 the source of all things — is perhaps as little in the 
 contemplation of the modern, as of the ancient 
 worshiper of the Pantheon." There can be no 
 doubt, if some of the old tombs were to give up 
 their dead, the Roman would see nothing wanting 
 
THE PANTHEON. 41 
 
 to complete his worship, — the temple, the altar, 
 and the image are at hand. He would, assuredly, 
 without a question or a doubt, take his place 
 among the rest. 
 
 The altars are numerous; there is a niche for 
 each statue, and pillars of rich marble support 
 the canopy overhead. These altars are eminently 
 chaste and beautiful ; there is nothing gaudy, such 
 as we find in the temples of India, but everything 
 is indicative of a taste at once judicious and 
 refined. The light is admitted by a circular 
 orifice in the roof, and is thus diffused equally 
 throughout the building. There is no glass, but 
 the fleecy clouds, or deep blue of the firmament, 
 look without obstacle on the interior. The floor 
 is mosaic, but the patterns are coarse, although the 
 material is costly. 
 
 There is an air of dignity about the Pantheon, 
 "simple" but " sublime, 1 ' which appeals forcibly 
 to the mind. Its very silence is impressive. 
 Spared by the hand of the Vandal and the Goth, 
 like the majestic oak of the forest, it has withstood 
 the changes and the blasts of time. It stands 
 amongst the remains of Rome like a Niobe, sur- 
 veying amidst the desolation the ruin that has 
 seized upon temple and tower in this metropolis of 
 
42 THE PANTHEON. 
 
 nations. Her pillars are untouched, her altars 
 unbroken, while they have left but 
 
 " Two or three columns, and many a stone, 
 Marble and granite, with grass o'ergrown." 
 
 Having descended to us thus entire, it is to be 
 lamented that a purer worship does not occupy its 
 walls. When the images of the old mythology 
 were broken, it is to be deplored that modern mar- 
 tyrology so soon supplied their places. If these 
 altars were untenanted save by the Bible, the word 
 of God filling the place of the work of man, if 
 the practice of pure Christianity flowed within the 
 walls, it had not inaptly represented the peaceful 
 triumphs of the cross, and had well foreshadowed 
 the full prostration of the pagan ritual before the 
 sublimer precepts of Christ. 
 
 4M 
 
THE CLERGY. 43 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE CLERGY, SECULAR AND REGULAR. VERY NUMEROUS, AND 
 
 DESTINED TO THE CHURCH FROM CHILDHOOD. THE CARDINALS. 
 
 GALLERY OF CARDINAL FESCH. MODE OF ELECTING THE 
 
 POPE. INQUIRY CONCERNING THE RED HABIT OF THE CAR- 
 DINAL. BISHOPS. — MONSIGNORES. 
 
 As in other Catholic countries, the clergy at Rome 
 may be divided into secular and regular. As may 
 be conceived in a city the centre of the Church, 
 and the seminary of its learning, they are very 
 numerous, and form a large proportion of the 
 population. Every twentieth person you meet is 
 of the sacerdotal class; and, from the peculiarity 
 and variety of their costume, — from the cardinal to 
 the curate, — they form not the least interesting 
 spectacle at Rome. 
 
 At Rome we see Romanism as it is ; the me- 
 chanism by which it not only governs its immediate 
 dominions, but by which its power is extended to 
 other states. Its government is sacerdotal, if I 
 may so speak, i, e. persons who are in orders 
 
44 THE clergy: 
 
 occupy all the offices of the state; and the executive 
 — they who administer the laws — is composed of 
 the same body.* It is, therefore, necessary to 
 impress the multitude with an idea of their cha- 
 racter and sanctity. Hence all the dignitaries, 
 from the cardinal downwards, never appear in 
 public, but in their respective ecclesiastical dresses. 
 The habit of the cardinal is showy in the extreme; 
 that of the bishops plain, but distinctive; while 
 the dresses of the regular clergy vary considerably. 
 We meet black, brown, white, and grey, with 
 hybrid habits between these. Of the former, some 
 drive about in gay equipages, and enliven the 
 Corso or the Monte Pincio by the butterfly 
 colours of their carriages or liveries. You can 
 scarcely imagine a greater difference between in- 
 dividuals, than there is between the various ranks 
 of the clergy in the city of the Popes. The car- 
 dinal is analogous to a nobleman. He is a prince 
 of the Church; his style is " Vostra Eminenza;" and 
 by him plebeian contact is regarded as much an 
 evil as by the aristocratical circles amongst us. 
 But the poor Franciscan or Capuchin is " wide 
 as the poles asunder" from his eminence, in gesture, 
 
 * The present Pope, among his other wise reforms, has begun to 
 admit the laity to a participation in these offices. 
 
THEIR NUMBER AND DISTINCTIONS. 45 
 
 manner, and dress. The latter is of the coarsest 
 material ; a stocking is too great a luxury for his 
 feet; and he would at once lose caste, if he were seen 
 reclining in a calesso or carrozza. The broad- 
 brimmed hat shelters the easy visage of the car- 
 dinal from the burning rays of the Italian sun ; 
 but the skull-cap of the monk leaves the face to 
 assume what colour it may by solar influence. 
 
 In the parishes nearly all things are done and 
 settled by the clergy. Disputes are arranged and 
 feuds checked ; but this seems to be done, notwith- 
 standing, more by the force of advice and persuasion 
 than from the prestige attachable to their name 
 or character. Certain it is that the Irish priests 
 exercise a more complete control over their 
 flocks, and the latter succumb to the dictates of 
 the former with far less hesitation, than I ob- 
 served to be the case in the papal dominions. 
 The reason of which lies probably in this, that, 
 the priest being maintained and fostered by the 
 state, each party is independent of the other; 
 but in Ireland the case is reversed, where the 
 relation of priests and people is of the most in- 
 timate nature, deriving its chief strength from 
 that species of the voluntary principle which pre - 
 vails amongst the Roman Catholic persuasion. 
 
46 the clergy: 
 
 Again : the difference is very marked with re- 
 gard to the persons chosen for the ministry. In 
 this country, generally, they are taken from the 
 middle or humbler classes: at Rome, for the 
 most part, the gentry supply its ranks, and the 
 nobility, with no small degree of ambition, take 
 orders in the Church; nay, even the head of a 
 princely house forfeits the hope of transmitting 
 his name and honours, and, allured by the Pope- 
 dom in the distance, exchanges the coronet for 
 the hat of the cardinal. Except in the mendi- 
 cant orders, it is scarcely possible for a poor or 
 humble individual to enter the Church. It is 
 required that he should have, not only enough 
 to support him during the years of study, but 
 also something in the way of property, which he 
 might call his own. No doubt the income looked 
 to is small, but it is sufficient, as I suppose it 
 was intended, to guarantee the respectability of 
 the priesthood. 
 
 To every parish church not only a rector and 
 curates are attached, but many others (priests), who 
 share in the duties and emoluments. They are 
 called canons, deans, &c. : in some of the larger 
 churches as many as twenty will be found chant- 
 ing the mass and officiating together. In the 
 
DEDICATED FROM CHILDHOOD. 47 
 
 basilicas they are still more numerous, as at St. 
 Peter's, where, besides the dignitaries, we find a 
 confessor of almost all the languages in commu- 
 nion with Rome. At a certain hour upon every 
 day, the English, the French, the German, the 
 Austrian, will find a confessor of his own nation, 
 who will freely absolve him in the temple where 
 " Petrus,* Princeps Apostolorum" both reposes and 
 presides. 
 
 Persons intended for the priesthood are dedi- 
 cated to its service from childhood : their habits 
 are thus early formed, and, by a long and rigorous 
 education, they acquire the power of parting with 
 every consideration, and place their pleasures and 
 their hopes in the profession to which they look 
 forward. The innocent recreations, intended by 
 nature as an exercise whereby body and mind 
 receive equal accessions of strength, are pastimes 
 of the world, and must not be shared in by the 
 embryo priest. It is amusing to see them, as 
 they pass by youths of their own age, how 
 anxiously they look back upon them, as they 
 are engaged in their juvenile sports. The rigid 
 rules to which they are restricted cannot banish 
 the feeling of companionship from their breasts ; 
 
 * So called in the dedication upon St. Peter's. 
 
48 MINIATURE PRIESTS. 
 
 and the voice of nature within them occasion- 
 ally renders them deaf to the calls of the pro- 
 fessor. 
 
 From their earliest years, also, they are equip- 
 ped in complete ecclesiastical dress : they are 
 perfect parish priests in miniature, with the black 
 flowing robe, the slouched hat, and shoes adorned 
 with white buckles. You might imagine them 
 the priests of the Pigmean nation, who had sent 
 them as emissaries to Rome. You meet them of 
 various sizes, from the boy "just breeched, " to 
 the youth entering his twentieth year. 
 
 It is wonderful how these children have ac- 
 quired, even in their features and gait, the gra- 
 vity of their order. As they pass you in the 
 strada or piazza, from the air of dignity they 
 assume, and the look of consequence they bear, 
 you can scarcely refrain from believing that they 
 have not just concluded some service, or are 
 hastening to their clerical duties. Even their 
 parents and friends look upon " il piccolo pretre" 
 with a sort of veneration. Although not anoint- 
 ed or admitted to orders, he is looked upon as 
 " set apart" for the priesthood, as one that will 
 hereafter withhold or dispense the vengeance of 
 Heaven. He is preferred before his brothers, and 
 
THE CLERICAL OFFICE. 49 
 
 in their views this dear tie is transferred from 
 them, with its mutual regards, to their church. 
 
 Strong and habitual as these restraints are, it 
 is a question worthy of consideration, whether the 
 end in view is attained, and if the priests are 
 equally qualified by study as by inclination for 
 the ministry. There can be little doubt but that 
 all men are not alike qualified for the sacred 
 office, from the various tempers, dispositions, and 
 constitutions which nature gives to men. Much 
 may be acquired by habit, — the heart to a degree 
 changed: but is the stamp which is impressed 
 upon it by nature — the peculiar thoughts which 
 are the wonted offspring of the mind, and con- 
 stitute the identity of the individual — capable of 
 substantial alteration ? 
 
 " Naturam expellas furca, tamen usque recurret." 
 
 The indiscriminate selection, then, for the priest- 
 hood is founded upon a wrong principle, and seems 
 to forget the fallen nature of man, and to be little 
 influenced by adaptation and ability. Consequent- 
 ly, amongst the priesthood must be found, as the 
 evidence of past ages has evinced, the man a prey 
 to ambition or to infidelity, the libertine or the 
 enthusiast. Preferable is the mode in use amongst 
 us, and which bears the sanction of St. Paul : if 
 
 D 
 
50 THE CARDINALS. 
 
 any one " of good report " desires the office of the 
 ministry, let him be admitted to it. Let inclina- 
 tion and natural ability be the reasons for entering 
 on the responsible office, and recruit not the ser- 
 vice of the Church by a sort of proscription, which 
 leaves to the person himself neither choice nor 
 refusal. 
 
 The cardinals amount to seventy-two, but the 
 Sacred College is seldom full. They were insti- 
 tuted by the Popes, taking Moses as the prece- 
 dent, to share with them the duties and responsi- 
 bility of their exalted station; or this definite 
 number may, with greater probability, be taken 
 to represent the disciples of Christ. Some are 
 in constant attendance upon his person, but the 
 greater part occupy fine palaces, in some of the 
 best situations of Rome. 
 
 It is unnecessary to say that the Pope is se- 
 lected from their number. These are appointed 
 at his " mero motu" but generally men of ability 
 and character are the objects of his choice. A 
 prince, however, or other nobleman taking orders, 
 — whatever his acquirements may be, — is sure 
 of arriving at this distinguished honour. Both 
 branches of the clergy are equally eligible. The 
 late pontiff, Gregory XVI., was of the regular 
 
THE CARDINALS. 51 
 
 clergy* — a monk; so are also Mikara, Oriola, 
 and many others. As a preliminary to appoint- 
 ment, the enjoyment of some property is indis- 
 pensable, as the salary to be derived from the 
 papal finances — about eight hundred pounds per 
 annum — is not sufficient to support the dignity 
 of the clerical aristocrat. All the offices of the 
 government are filled by cardinals; they are the 
 governors of cities and provinces, bishops and 
 archbishops, at home and abroad. They affect a 
 great state, and surpass the nobility of the coun- 
 try in their establishments and equipage. The 
 ordinary dress is a black coat bound with red 
 lace, knee-breeches, and red stockings, over which 
 is thrown a brilliant scarlet cloak. The head is 
 covered by the usual broad-brimmed clerical hat, 
 but the colour is also red, from which hang 
 gracefully a couple of silk tassels, of the same 
 tinge. 
 
 The carriage of the cardinal is also accompanied 
 with the same display. It is a large vehicle, and 
 
 * This order was a branch of the Benedictine, rather on the 
 decline in Italy. There is, I believe, but one established house at 
 Rome. The name of the order is, if I spell it rightly, Camaldo-lesi. 
 Although living for the most part in the towns, they partake some- 
 what of the nature of the eremita; the brothers, even in the same 
 house, living each by himself. 
 
 d2 
 
52 THE CARDINALS. 
 
 resembles very much our stage-coaches. The 
 panels are painted dark red, with yellow stripes 
 upon the pole, axle, &c. They each bear the 
 owner's coat of arms on a large scale ; as the 
 painting is well executed, it really does not look 
 tawdry. The horses are two, and jet black. They 
 bear upon their heads red ornaments of worsted, 
 which also appear in other parts of the harness. 
 A burly coachman, dressed in the gayest livery, 
 barred like our butterflies, sits on the box, and 
 whips his black steeds through the streets once 
 trodden by the Pontifex Mazimus of old. Three 
 servants obtain a precarious footing behind : two 
 hold on by the straps ; the last, who thus forms 
 a sort of triangle, preserves his place by a grip 
 with each hand of his brother footmen. These, 
 also, wear the same showy livery. 
 
 Frequently I have met one of their "eminences" 
 at a short distance in the country, taking the air 
 on foot, while the carriage he has left keeps pace 
 with him in the road. He walks on, while the 
 two footmen tread in his steps. They are treated 
 with much deference by the population, and not 
 to doff the hat when you meet one is regarded as a 
 mark of disrespect. 
 
 Many of the cardinals are men of ability, and 
 
CARDINAL FESCH'S GALLLERY. 53 
 
 publications from their pen are not uncommon, 
 Like the rest of the nobility, their taste is the 
 accumulation of pictures and statues. Many have 
 good collections. The gallery of the late Cardinal 
 Fesch, in the Strada Giulia,* is amongst the best at 
 Rome. Possessed himself of the most discrimi- 
 nating taste, he spared no expense in his collec- 
 tion. It is remarkable as well for the excellence 
 as for the variety of the pictures. The other 
 galleries are mostly of the Italian schools ; but 
 in the Fesch gallery, that of the Flemish and 
 Spanish is very extensive and remarkably fine, 
 combined with a varied and superb display of 
 Italian originals. The visitor can no more forget 
 " The Repentant Magdalene " of Vandyke in this 
 collection, than the " Ecce Homo " of Guercino 
 irf the Corsini gallery. The late proprietor at- 
 tached a high value to this picture, and kept it 
 constantly in his studio, in company with some 
 half-dozen chefs d'ceuvres. It proves that Van- 
 dyke's power was not confined to portraits. 
 
 Some of the Sacred College have also built 
 spacious palaces, which are exceedingly beautiful, 
 and the principal ornaments of the localities in 
 
 * Since the death of the possessor the greater part of the picture 
 that composed this gallery have been dispersed. 
 
54 MODE OF ELECTING 
 
 which they are placed. But I could not hear of 
 their founding useful institutions, or bequeathing 
 their wealth to purposes of national or public 
 utility. Ostentation seems to be with all the 
 ruling principle. They are ignorant that the con- 
 nexion of their name with some hospital or col- 
 lege would form a more noble and enduring monu- 
 ment, and would transmit it more lastingly to the 
 gratitude of posterity. 
 
 The mode in which the Pope is elected to fill 
 his exalted station is both interesting and curious. 
 The elective body are the cardinals, pronounced 
 so by a decree of Alexander III. The clergy and 
 people were invested with the suffrage, until it 
 was abrogated by that Pope. " Nine days are 
 allowed for the obsequies of the deceased Pope,* 
 and the arrival of the absent cardinals ; on the 
 tenth they are imprisoned, each with one domestic, 
 in a common apartment, or conclave, without any 
 separation of walls or curtains ; a small window is 
 reserved for the introduction of necessaries, but 
 the door is locked on both sides, and guarded by 
 the magistrate of the city, to seclude them from all 
 correspondence with the world. If the election 
 
 * Gibbon, iv. 401. I use his words, as he expresses it better 
 than I can, and I believe the practice has undergone no change. 
 
THE POPE. 55 
 
 be not consummated in three days, the luxury of 
 their tables is contracted to a single dish at dinner 
 and supper; and after the eighth day, they are 
 reduced to a scanty allowance of bread, water, and 
 wine. During the vacancy of the Holy See, the 
 cardinals are prohibited from touching the re- 
 venues, or assuming (unless in some rare emer- 
 gency) the government of the Church ; all agree- 
 ments and promises among the electors are for- 
 mally annulled, and their integrity is fortified by 
 their solemn oath and the prayers of the Catholics. 
 Some articles of inconvenient or superfluous rigour 
 have been gradually relaxed, but the principle of 
 confinement is vigorous and entire ; they are still 
 urged by the personal motives of health and free- 
 dom to accelerate the moment of their deliverance ; 
 and the improvement of ballot, or secret votes, 
 has wrapped the struggle of the conclave in the 
 silky veil of charity and politeness." 
 
 All Catholic nations have contributed members to 
 the Sacred College, but the great majority is now, 
 as it has always been, composed of Italians. Wol- 
 sey and Richelieu — the one the produce of the 
 English, the other of the Gallic soil — have been 
 famous ere now. Cardinal Weld was an English- 
 man, and is dead but a few years. The only 
 
56 CARDINAL ACTON. 
 
 English cardinal at present is an ecclesiastic of the 
 name of Acton. He is easy of access, of bland 
 manners, and very useful to the English residents. 
 His holiness seldom engages in anything con- 
 cerning the religious or political matters of the 
 British Isles without taking the opinion of Cardi- 
 nal Acton. 
 
 If our relations with Rome were of a more 
 intimate nature, it is probable that the nuncio we 
 should have would be one of the most wary of the 
 cardinals ; and however the equipage, the red hat, 
 and the red stockings might excite attention, it 
 would be a matter to be lamented that the perse- 
 cuting and intolerant church should have its re- 
 cognised representative in our free metropolis. It 
 is a spectacle that the people of England would 
 be unlikely to endure. At the same time, a re- 
 presentative of our own at Rome, however the 
 same feeling would naturally resist any proposition 
 of the sort, would be attended with considerable 
 advantage. I do not now, with reference to this 
 diplomatic post, speak of church matters — of this 
 different views will be entertained; but I refer 
 merely to the benefit of an accredited agent of 
 our government to the English residents. It re- 
 quires a residence in Italy to become acquainted 
 
EXORBITANT CHARGES. 07 
 
 with the underhand and disingenuous nature of 
 the Italian character. No men, at least to a great 
 extent, are so low in the moral scale ; nowhere 
 can there be found a greater want of integrity, 
 truth, and honesty. In their dealings with Eng- 
 lishmen the three last principles are entirely 
 thrown overboard ; and reckoning our countrymen 
 as persons well able to bear it, they do not scruple 
 to make use of unfair dealing. Numberless cases 
 of flagrant injustice have come under my notice ; 
 I mean cases of contract for houses and lodgings * 
 violated and falsified, and among classes where one 
 would not expect it, — so universal is the taint, or 
 the appetite, to over-reach John Bull. The Eng- 
 lish consul has no power where natives are con- 
 cerned, so the maltreated Englishman is left to 
 have recourse to laws whose language he is not 
 conversant with, and whose justice all precedents 
 assure him is one-sided. 
 
 The wealthy English pay these enormous de- 
 mands, or pocket their affronts ; but to the artist 
 or the invalid, the person of small means, they 
 are most serious evils. The Romans know that 
 
 * These remarks apply chiefly, if not altogether, to the persons who 
 let apartments and houses ; the character of the artisan and shop- 
 keeper is the reverse of this. 
 
 d5 
 
58 INQUIRY CONCERNING THE 
 
 we have no one to apply to, and hence, in almost 
 every case, there is some breach of faith, with its 
 consequent annoyances. This system would all 
 be put an end to, the ill-got gains of the Papal 
 subjects would cease, if the Inglese had their 
 ambassador, armed with powers to decide and 
 punish. 
 
 As I often contemplated the cardinals, arrayed 
 in their rich red dresses, I was perplexed to ac- 
 count for the origin of the colour which they have 
 assumed. Is it a religious distinction? The sur- 
 plice is an emblematic garment; its pure white, 
 without spot or stain, typifying the spiritual purity 
 of the wearer. Does the red robe of the cardinal 
 point to the doctrine, that, " though your sins be as 
 scarlet," yet, by the inexhaustible fountain of abso- 
 lution, flowing in this centre of the Catholic body, 
 they shall become " white as snow" — that by one of 
 their order are held the keys which loose or retain 
 sins ? or does it represent the character of their 
 Church, which has shewn itself in many an age 
 and in many a country sufficiently sanguinary? 
 The black flag announces that no quarter may be 
 expected; the yellow, that the plague-spirit is 
 hovering over the devoted vessel ; and so, when we 
 see this colour universally tinging the chieftains of 
 
RED HABITS OF THE CARDINALS. 59 
 
 the Church, it is impossible to disconnect it from 
 the reflections which St. Bartholomew, the Wal- 
 denses, and the Inquisition give birth to. 
 
 The author of the "Decline and Fall" gives a 
 somewhat different account : — "The senators of the 
 Catholic Church, the coadjutors and legates of the 
 Supreme Pontiff, were robed in purple, the symbol 
 or emblem of royalty; they claimed a proud 
 equality with kings; and their dignity was en- 
 hanced by the smallness of their number, which, 
 till the reign of Leo X., seldom exceeded twenty 
 or twenty-five persons." 
 
 The dress with which rectors and curates appear 
 in public is plain and appropriate. Over their 
 black coat, according to the taste of the wearer, 
 they throw a light and scanty cloak of black silk, 
 which does not reach farther than the knees. They 
 are never without their ample-brimmed hat, which 
 is turned up and attached to the crown in one part. 
 They, however, dress with great taste and precision ; 
 in fact, nothing is more attended to. Every digni- 
 tary and " regular" has to particularity what he is 
 entitled to, and that he takes care to display to the 
 public gaze, set off with every advantage. After a 
 residence of a few weeks, you may immediately 
 tell, by their garb and gait, the dignity of the dif- 
 
60 BISHOPS. 
 
 ferent ecclesiastics, from the pompous cardinal to 
 the humble, indifferently-clad subdeacon. 
 
 Bishops do not realise the anticipations that may 
 be formed of them ; they reserve for the cathedral 
 their more showy robes ; they walk or drive 
 through the Corso as a priest, with the exception 
 of a sterling gold chain worn outside, which holds 
 suspended a well-executed crucifix of the same 
 metal. Into the band surrounding the hat are 
 also introduced a few gay colours ; and if the 
 bishop has the dignity of Monsignore, his legs are 
 encased in purple stockings. 
 
 The Monsignore is an honour conferred by the 
 Pope. It is about the same rank as a knight in 
 other kingdoms; it is alike bestowed on men in 
 orders and on civilians. Monsignore wears the 
 hat of the priest and also his head-gear ; but he 
 wraps his shoulders in a light purple cloak, and 
 his legs are set off to advantage in silk stockings 
 of the same Tyrian dye. His state is also mani- 
 fested by an attending servant, who walks after him 
 wherever he goes, or acts as footman if he be rich 
 enough to afford a carriage. He looks like a faded 
 cardinal, or you might take him for one of the do- 
 mestics of the latter, to whose lot had fallen the 
 cast-off and well-worn habiliments of his eminence. 
 
 * 
 
MONSIGNORES. 61 
 
 We must not, however, judge from appearances, 
 as the title of Monsignore is not unfrequently a 
 step towards the more ambitious honour of the 
 cardinal. The late president of the English col- 
 lege, Dr. Baggs, had received this dignity, and was 
 considered in a fair way towards a place in the 
 Sacred College ; he, however, accepted a bishopric 
 in England in 1844, and bade farewell to Rome 
 and greatness. The late governor of Rome, Zac- 
 chei, was also a Monsignore — a thin, cadaverous- 
 looking man, but who had a good deal of the gen- 
 tleman in his features and deportment. 
 
62 CARDINAL LAMBRUSCHINI. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 CARDINAL LAMBRUSCHINI. — CARDINAL M1KARA THE REGULAR 
 
 CLERGY. DOMINICANS AND JESUITS. — THEIR ACTIVITY AND 
 
 ZEAL. — CAPUCHINS. FRANCISCANS. — CONVENTS. OTHER ORDERS. 
 
 — NUNS AND NUNNERIES. 
 
 Lambruschini was the Papal prime minister 
 during the reign of the late Pope. Of the whole 
 body of the cardinals he is the most remarkable 
 and striking. There are many that exceed him in 
 years, for his age is only between fifty and sixty, 
 but none in personal appearance. His carriage is 
 erect and manly ; his head fine and intellectual ; he 
 possesses an eye, dark, but full of fire, bespeaking 
 equally vigour and decision. The forehead is high 
 and beautifully formed, indicating no want of men- 
 tal faculty; his features are handsome, and lose 
 none of their expression in the disfiguring dress he 
 wears. In fact, every line of his face declares him 
 a man to whom nature has given no ordinary 
 ability, as it also tells that that endowment has 
 been cultivated by study and education. He 
 
CARDINAL LAMBRUSCHINI. 63 
 
 looks like one who has the cares of a state upon 
 him, and I should say he was not unequal to the 
 task. I have only seen him at the Sistine Chapel or 
 at St. Peter's, and though on these occasions he was 
 not inattentive to devotion, if I might judge from 
 the expression of the face, the duties of his station 
 and the demands of the Church were endeavouring 
 to intrude upon, and obtain some occupation of his 
 mind. In fact I pitied him, when, during the cere- 
 mony, custom compelled him to kiss or embrace 
 his neighbouring cardinals — whose looks were so 
 devoid of intelligence, so diametrically opposite 
 to his own. I can say with some confidence, from 
 what I have seen of the man, that he discharged 
 the various duties of his office, with no less hu- 
 manity than zeal, and that, though the encroaching 
 and jealous policy of former centuries may not 
 have been absent, its cruel or sanguinary spirit had 
 no place in his bosom. 
 
 Lambruschini possessed the unlimited confi- 
 dence of the late Pope ; he was more than his 
 prime minister, he was his cabinet, his "alter ego." 
 Gregory never engaged in any serious matter 
 without having first availed himself of his advice ; 
 and instances are not wanting where he had failed 
 to fulfil a promise, or had broken a pledged resolu- 
 
64 CARDINAL LAMBRUSCHINI. 
 
 tion, because it did not meet with the concurrence 
 of his minister. The Pope was a cautious and 
 a timid man, and, though not devoid of penetration, 
 felt the want of all these qualities, which he 
 found to his hand in his favourite cardinal. Al- 
 though in so high a position, he did not abuse it. 
 There seemed to have been a reciprocal affec- 
 tion ; the Pope's estimation of him was well 
 known ; and during the processions Lambruschini 
 frequently used to turn, as it were, to see that his 
 aged sovereign and bishop was duly attended and 
 taken care of. 
 
 Lambruschini is decidedly patriotic, and has 
 done more than any man, in modern times, to re- 
 pair the shattered edifice of Romanism. But it 
 is a question, whether his inflexible character is 
 best calculated to promote the objects he has in 
 view. The ground he takes is too high, and less 
 adapted to the present aspect and position of the 
 Roman Church, than altered times and circum- 
 stances warrant. He forgets that Romanism is on the 
 decline, and that the weakness, if not the imbecility 
 of age, has beset her, while his policy and plans 
 would become more the meridian of her strength. 
 In the long disputes with Russia he never yielded 
 — a ridiculous warfare with a potentate so power- 
 
CARDINAL MIKARA. 65 
 
 ful and energetic as the Czar. The front that 
 he has generally opposed to France has been bold 
 and uncompromising. It is very possible that 
 Lambruschini will one day occupy the pontifical 
 throne : the Roman Church will have a Pope of 
 worth and probity, but the Roman people a de- 
 cided enemy to reformation and free institutions. 
 
 Cardinal Mikara,* a Capuchin, and Bishop of 
 Frescati, is also a clever and stirring ecclesiastic. 
 I cannot speak of his personal appearance, but he 
 has the character of being a clear-headed and an 
 accomplished man. He is probably the most en- 
 lightened of the cardinals, and possesses a spirit 
 more in accordance with that of the age than any 
 other member of the Sacred College, He has, on 
 more than one occasion, shewn a willingness to 
 reform the institutions of the Church, but, from the 
 cold manner with which his propositions were re- 
 ceived, although we should hope that they have 
 since made some progress, it augurs that he has 
 not many followers.-)- 
 
 * The death of this prelate has taken place since these pages have 
 been in the press. 
 
 f Cardinal Mastai, who has ascended the pontifical chair as Pius 
 IX., who had previously given no general publicity to his views, 
 probably because he felt the inutility of doing so without the power 
 to second them, seems to have adopted the line of conduct and liberal 
 
66 CARDINAL MIKARA. 
 
 To the liberal principles of Gonsalvi he adds 
 an anxiety to make the Church less offensive to the 
 great body of Christians who differ from her ; to 
 make her more suited to altered times, if not more 
 conformable to actual truth. Some years since, in 
 a convocation, where the subject in debate was the 
 miserable state of the Papal finances, and the con- 
 sequent difficulties of the government, he made 
 some propositions, startling for their boldness and 
 novelty. Some of the college had suggested re- 
 trenchment in the public departments, and some 
 additional taxes ; but he said, " Can we call for 
 economy in the management of the military or 
 any other bodies which are necessary or can be 
 ill spared by the country, while we ourselves are 
 buried in luxury ? Can we deprive the people of 
 a necessary while our establishments are enormous, 
 and ill adapted to ecclesiastics — our dress expensive 
 — our equipage adapted more for princes than 
 
 policy of which, on more than one occasion, Mikara is said to have 
 been the advocate. The commencement of his rule augurs well, and 
 if he be sincere, and not tied down by the interests of contending 
 factions, the result must prove highly beneficial to Italy, and tend in 
 no mean degree to exalt his own name. The task, however, is a 
 Herculean one. Whether the department be the state or the church, — 
 the system religious, political, or social,— it will require a head that 
 can plan, and a hand that can grapple with abuses. 
 
THE REGULAR CLERGY. 67 
 
 priests? Believe me, retrenchment should begin 
 at home — the example of economy should be set by 
 us." 
 
 By so doing, he remarked, there would be a 
 lighter burden upon the public funds, and that 
 they would by degrees right themselves. He also 
 added, that the ceremonies and processions of the 
 Church were too numerous and expensive, and that 
 there was great room for improvement in these 
 institutions, as well as in the other parts of the 
 government. 
 
 It is desirable to see one of those, who, as Pope, 
 may possess so great an influence in Europe, put- 
 ting forth opinions equally creditable and just. 
 The true method to reform the Roman Church, 
 and to crush the abuses with which she abounds, 
 is by a movement in the centre of the body. More 
 signal will be its effects, and more permanent, 
 when those changes are promoted by that eminent 
 body to whom are entrusted her sacred and civil 
 government. 
 
 The regular clergy form the great majority of 
 Roman ecclesiastics. They are in high favour 
 with the people and with those in power ; the late 
 Pope having been of their order, and being also well 
 represented in the Sacred College, they are a 
 
68 DOMINICANS AND JESUITS. 
 
 powerful body. It seems difficult to say which of 
 them has the greater influence. Probably this 
 may rest with the Jesuits, but it results from 
 various causes ; they have the education of youth 
 altogether in their power, they are strong in the 
 Collegio Romano, and are paramount in several 
 other institutions in the capital. 
 
 In these seminaries they inculcate their doctrines 
 with the usual skill and pertinacity which so much 
 distinguish the followers of Loyola. There the 
 plastic mind is formed by those acute judges of 
 human nature; and while it imbibes secular learn- 
 ing, it also imperceptibly, but irresistibly, receives 
 that colouring from the institutes of its professors, 
 which attaches it to them in after-life, from the 
 principle of early association and youthful obedi- 
 ence. The education of the scions of noble 
 houses, the patrician, and the plebeian, are equally 
 in their hands. This of course enlarges the foun- 
 dation of their society, and propagates their tenets 
 and their power; but it nevertheless is not for- 
 gotten that they are an order which has been 
 suppressed by the supreme head of the Church, 
 and which has frequently undergone grave sus- 
 picion. 
 
 The power of the Dominicans was formerly un- 
 
THE JESUITS. 69 
 
 limited : this arose principally from its supplying 
 confessors to the various courts of Catholic states. 
 This does not continue, but persons of eminence 
 consign the care of their consciences, now, to 
 any of either ranks of the clergy to whom they 
 may feel disposed. Generally the priests, canons, 
 or curates connected with the parish have this 
 spiritual trust confided to them, while the govern- 
 ment of their convents, the instruction of youth, 
 or the burial of the dead, give sufficient employ- 
 ment to the regulars. 
 
 The Jesuits are recovering from the disgraces 
 and defeats they have received at Rome, as well 
 as in other places. They are " up and stirring, " 
 frequently to be met on the thoroughfares, with 
 thoughtful brows and hurried steps. The business 
 of conversion is committed to their hands. Many 
 thousand foreigners visit or sojourn in the city ; to 
 these the Jesuit frequently finds access, and by 
 degrees winds himself into the good graces of his 
 new acquaintances. He lends them books, — not 
 actual Roman Catholic pamphlets, but those 
 which combine the " utile cum dulci" — which, per- 
 haps, while they would descant upon some local 
 subject, or something remarkable in the neighbour- 
 hood, gradually undermine the faith of Protestants. 
 
70 ZEAL OF THE JESUITS. 
 
 Then, when they have wound themselves into your 
 confidence, they act more openly, and put into 
 your hands a book upon " the faith" (il fede), or a 
 tract illustrative of the sole orthodoxy and purity 
 of Rome. It is wonderful with what zeal they go 
 about the business, and then it was so purely acci- 
 dental — so unpremeditated. 
 
 I have been told that in some cases they are 
 successful, and an English family, or some of its 
 members, forsake the religion of their fathers, and 
 enter into communion with Rome. 
 
 These cases are uncommon, as we may infer 
 from the unequivocal sounds of triumph that were 
 raised when Mr. Scott Murray lately became a 
 convert. They are, however, not the less vigilant 
 and prepared for any business which demands 
 energy and perseverance. Wherever the post of 
 danger is, there the Jesuits will be found. If a 
 schism appears in a province, their missionaries are 
 sent to bring about measures of conciliation, and 
 to heal division. If the Church has a political 
 motive in view, she finds no agent more adapted to 
 her purpose, from his general knowledge of the 
 world, and skill in penetrating character, than the 
 follower of Ignatius. If barbarous lands require 
 apostles to spread the Gospel, none will be found 
 
CAPUCHINS AND FRANCISCANS. 71 
 
 equally fitted, by education and art, to combat and 
 overcome the difficulties of the situation, with the 
 obsequious members of the same order. 
 
 They, indeed, may be well called "the forlorn 
 hope" of the Church, placed always in the front of 
 the battle, elated by success, and but little dispi- 
 rited by defeat. The dress of this order does not 
 differ in much from the local clergy, but they may 
 be always observed having the cravat half covered 
 with a piece of white muslin. 
 
 The Capuchins and Franciscans are very nu- 
 merous, and have several houses. Of the former 
 the chief is near the Piazza Barberini, and num- 
 bers, with the principal and officers, about 200 
 members. Cardinal Mikara, Bishop of Frescati, 
 a liberal-minded ecclesiastic, is one of the number. 
 
 Both these orders are maintained chiefly by 
 having entrusted to them the burial of the dead. 
 When a person dies, they are sent for, and become 
 the sole undertakers. Fifty or a hundred of their 
 body attend, walking two by two after the body, 
 chaunting occasionally in a solemn strain, through 
 the frequented streets, some service for the dead, 
 while the interval is filled up with conversation. 
 It may be the virtues or the foibles of the 
 deceased, that they descant upon, but often some 
 
72 CAPUCHINS AND FRANCISCANS. 
 
 brother's remark wakes a smile in his neighbour, 
 so that they seem to engage in their melancholy 
 duty with no very depressed feelings. They are 
 paid each from a paul to a scudo, according to the 
 poverty or wealth of the individual. 
 
 The habit of both Capuchin and Franciscan is 
 much alike — a coarse brown frock or cloak drawn 
 tightly to the waist by a band, having the appear- 
 ance of a rope or cord, but of a much softer texture. 
 A capacious hood is thrown over the shoulders, 
 which is used to cover the head ; sandals without 
 stockings complete the figure. Some wear a small 
 skull-cap, while with others the winds of heaven 
 play as they list with their dark or grizzled hair. 
 
 The Capuchin looks very venerable with a patri- 
 archal beard, which he seems to have copied from 
 the Moses of Michael Angelo in the church of 
 St. Peter in Vincoli.* Some, at least, would be apt 
 to think so, but to me his overgrown moustache 
 and barba intonsa seemed to speak more of a mili- 
 tary than of a religious character. Very different 
 
 * Michael Angelo supplies us with one of those rare examples, 
 where men have successfully cultivated the sister arts of architecture, 
 statuary, and painting. In all he attained to incomparable excellence. 
 The " monumentum perennius cere " in each department are, St. 
 Peter's, the "Last Judgment," and the statue of Moses. The beard 
 of the latter, however, is somewhat exaggerated. 
 
CAPUCHINS AND FRANCISCANS. 73 
 
 in this respect is the Franciscan ; with the same 
 dress as to colour, shape, and material, he presents 
 his chin and upper lip shaved with as much care 
 as if a frisseur had presided at the operation. This 
 is solely to distinguish the orders. Indeed, clean- 
 liness one would think would be enough for this 
 purpose, as the Franciscan must have in this par- 
 ticular greatly the advantage of the Capuchin, 
 covered as he is with hair, and that in such a 
 climate as that of Italy. 
 
 The majority of these men betray but little 
 intelligence or acuteness in their countenances. 
 It is a question to me whether their qualifications 
 in many instances embrace anything further than 
 a capacity for chaunting the burial service, and 
 going through the ordinary routine of their esta- 
 blishments. Living in inactivity and seclusion, 
 they can be of no great use to the community, 
 and, one would think, a burden to themselves. As 
 to clerical duties, the parochial clergy are quite 
 sufficient to discharge them. Hence they live to 
 themselves, leading a life of self-denial, and con- 
 fer no share of their talents or labours upon the 
 community. 
 
 At the same time, the services that the monks 
 have rendered must not be forgotten. To their 
 
 E 
 
74 CONVENTS. 
 
 exertions during the dark ages we are indebted 
 for the preservation of literature and art. But for 
 them we should look in vain for some of the 
 choicest remains of antiquity, or the interesting 
 records of their own stirring times. Many a great 
 painter would perhaps have forsaken the canvas 
 and easel for the pursuits of husbandry or war, 
 had he not found a discerning patron in the retire- 
 ment of the cloister. But, at the same time, the 
 question may well be asked, — whether the large 
 number of convents is not productive of more 
 injury than benefit to the countries where they are 
 situate? Could not the talents or the time of 
 the inmates be as usefully applied in other avoca- 
 tions, and could they not serve the common Father 
 of mankind in private stations, as well as re- 
 stricted by an unbending discipline and in a com- 
 mon abode? 
 
 The necessaries of life are cheap in Italy ; a few 
 " baiocchi" will procure enough of bread and wine 
 to support an individual. This with them is easily 
 procured, without bodily labour and the sweat of 
 the brow. Consequently these convents are always 
 full : according as sickness or age thins the bro- 
 therhood, so surely do successors speedily arise to 
 take their easy and vacant places. 
 
CONVENTS. 75 
 
 The Irish have a house near the Ludovisi villa, 
 which belongs to the order of St. Francis. The 
 patron is St. Isidore. The community is small, 
 consisting of a guardian and about a dozen young 
 men, invested with the habit. At the conclusion 
 of a few years they receive ordination at Rome, 
 and return to the Island of Saints. This convent 
 is commodious, has an extensive garden, and is 
 capable of containing a much greater number than 
 now occupy it; but its resources seem to have 
 decayed, as the general appearance of the place 
 and the dilapidation of the premises testify. It 
 does not seem to have any connexion with the 
 Irish college. Its festival day is St. Patrick. 
 
 I have inspected several of the convents, and 
 found a considerable degree of comfort in the 
 interior. The sites are well chosen, and the 
 chambers large and commodious. All are under 
 the management of a principal or guardian, and 
 consist of novices and admitted brethren. A 
 chapel is of course attached to each, in many 
 instances not inferior to the parish churches both 
 in size and embellishment. 
 
 The refectory is a large room ; and a library is 
 generally attached, the walls of which are, in 
 nearly every case, adorned with excellent frescoes. 
 
76 CONVENTS. 
 
 Thus, food for body and mind is alike provided 
 but the cravings of the latter probably hold no 
 proportion with those of the former. I rarely 
 saw a student occupied in the library ; the 
 benches were bare, the books reposing in silence. 
 Not but that there was a goodly store of them; 
 the folios of the Fathers were mingled with many 
 modern and agreeable works. Intellectual em- 
 ployment, I conclude, never occupies a thought of 
 the great majority; their reading is generally 
 turned to the breviary and the lives of the saints. 
 
 However, in most of the " houses,*' discipline 
 and forms take the place of intellectual pursuits. 
 They rise early and go through the set religious 
 duty, and conform to the rigorous or relaxed insti- 
 tutions of their peculiar order. The day is begun 
 and concluded with a considerable part of the 
 breviary — "the office," as it is called — accom- 
 panied with the usual recommendation to the 
 Virgin and the saints. At the angles of the 
 staircase wooden crucifixes are placed; these are 
 devoutly kissed as often as the brother either 
 ascends or descends ; and thus the morning or 
 the evening is consumed with various exercises, 
 postures, and ceremonies. 
 
 The Benedictines and Dominicans congregate 
 
OTHER ORDERS. 77 
 
 also in considerable numbers, but they are not so 
 much in public as the members of the two former 
 orders. The dress of the Dominicans is a grey 
 habit, with a hood of a dark colour. They have 
 churches of their own, where they officiate and 
 receive the emoluments. These orders have, from 
 time to time, produced some remarkable men ; 
 in many instances, they appear to be men of birth 
 and education. The "generals" of all these orders 
 reside at Rome; they organise houses in other 
 kingdoms, and decide finally all matters relating 
 to their society. 
 
 The Augustins do not appear to be so numerous, 
 although they are evidently a strong body, and are 
 in possession of some fine convents and churches, 
 viz. the remarkable church in the Via Augustini, 
 which receives as many offerings as any other 
 single edifice in Rome. 
 
 There are various other orders, as might be 
 expected, at Rome, varying in habit, life, and 
 rules. There are Carthusians and Carmelites, the 
 order of St. Basil, &c. Some wear a large red 
 cross upon the left breast or upon the shoulder. 
 I have met some monks in the streets who have 
 the crown of the head quite " shaven and bare," 
 and also the hair upon the back of the head and 
 
78 NUNS AND 
 
 temples, leaving a ring of about two inches in 
 width only. This is meant to represent "the 
 crown " which they are to have hereafter, which 
 they are allowed now to wear in anticipation. 
 Upon this, of course, no covering descends. I 
 take it that these men are regarded as peculiarly 
 holy, and possibly esteemed so by the people, 
 although I could not see that they were treated 
 with any peculiar respect. 
 
 Convents for females, or nunneries, are just as 
 numerous. They have also the saints who preside 
 over their institutions, and who give their names 
 to the order. St. Ursula, St. Agatha, St. Clara, 
 are of the number. I can speak but little of these 
 institutions. They are absolute prisons, and they 
 alike retain the inmates and exclude the public ; 
 but they are large edifices, and they must have 
 corresponding establishments. 
 
 Their rules are most strict and unbending. 
 When the Roman daughter takes the veil in them, 
 she truly bids adieu to the world. She never 
 again looks upon the beautiful landscape, glimpses 
 of which her youth had caught from each of the 
 seven hills, combining the green champaign with 
 the blue mountain, the rapid Tiber, and the classic 
 ruins of her native land. The breeze from the 
 
NUNNERIES. 79 
 
 Appenine shall never more fan her cheek, but 
 the confined air and the close room gradually 
 remove the hues of health — separated not only 
 from her acquaintance and companions, but from 
 her childhood's home, and a dark line drawn, ever, 
 between parental communication. The father at 
 set times may converse with his daughter, but 
 their eyes shall behold each other no more. Her 
 stern resolve has broken the ties that bound her 
 to the world. They are to .each other as the lan- 
 guage of the dead, as the voices of spirits. She 
 departs to her living tomb, probably to eat her 
 heart; and he to his home — as fanaticism or 
 nature prompts — to rejoice in his offering, or to 
 deplore his loss. 
 
 Nothing can be more melancholy and mono- 
 tonous than the life of the unhappy nun. All 
 those pleasures derivable from the prospect of 
 nature and the cheering influences of society 
 she is deprived of. She is separated from these 
 influences which improve the character and 
 strengthen the mind ; and, we may say, being out 
 as it were of the school of trial and probation, 
 is actually less fitted for the approach of death, 
 and the great change that is to take place, than 
 those who mingle in the world, and discharge the 
 
80 NUNS AND 
 
 duties imposed upon them by Providence. She 
 is the creature of custom — the victim of a habit 
 which results from mistaken, if not corrupt, views 
 of religion. It is the part only of a system which 
 maintains an ecclesiastical structure, built on ob- 
 servance and ceremonial; whose principle is to 
 spread out religious truth before the eyes, and not 
 to cultivate it in the heart. 
 
 The convents are prisons; the windows are 
 closely barred, the doors locked: and lest the 
 meditations of the inmates should be disturbed 
 by the passing crowd, a shed projects at right 
 angles with the base of the windows, so as to 
 completely obstruct their view. The clergy are, 
 of course, admitted to these houses, where mass 
 is celebrated at all the usual times. The lives 
 of the inmates are said to be sincere, and they 
 engage in the duties of their order with earn- 
 estness and zeal — of which, indeed, any other 
 evidence need hardly be required, than their vo- 
 luntarily quitting the world, and, to a great ex- 
 tent, its enjoyments, at the price of domestic 
 exile and personal liberty. 
 
 When old age, or more probably disease, puts 
 a. period to their existence, neither winds nor 
 night dews shall fall over the peaceful head. 
 
NUNNERIES. 81 
 
 There are the cold damps of the vault, but 
 none of 
 
 " the momentary dews, 
 Which, sparkling to the twilight stars, infuse 
 Freshness in the green turf that wraps the dead." 
 
 The distance is but short from the chamber above 
 to the vault below. The hands of the sisters 
 close her eyes, and by the same are soon com- 
 pleted her secret obsequies. 
 
 The loss of health must follow as a matter of 
 course in these institutions. Rome, during the 
 summer months, is visited by a frightful agent, 
 malaria, which deals fever upon all who come 
 within its influence. This and the sirocco make 
 the air peculiarly prejudicial to life. Those who 
 are able, leave at these times the stricken city 
 for the hills or the sea-coast ; but with what effect 
 must it tell upon those who are immured within 
 the walls of a confined building! In no monas- 
 tery do the monks totally seclude themselves; 
 they "take the air," and look healthy and well: 
 while those to whom nature has given weaker 
 constitutions are forbidden by the rules to 
 strengthen or preserve it, but are left by that 
 Church, " void of natural affection," to pine and 
 perish in secret. 
 
 E 5 
 
82 CEREMONIES AT ST. PETER'S. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 CEREMONIES AT ST. PETER'S — THEIR EFFECTS. — CHRISTMAS. — 
 PROCESSION. — GREGORY XVI. — GUARDIA NOBILE. — TEMPORAL 
 AND SPIRITUAL CHARACTER OF THE POPE. — PAPAL BENEDIC- 
 TION. 
 
 The superb cathedral of St. Peter's, at all times 
 abounding with objects of unequalled interest and 
 beauty, is never more engaging or more attractive 
 than upon the two great festivals of the Christian 
 world — that which is designed to commemorate 
 the birth, and the resurrection of our Lord. 
 
 The sojourner at Rome, at every repeated visit, 
 makes some new discovery, by which some new 
 light breaks in upon the soul — removing all pre- 
 vious doubt, if any existed, of the majestic pro- 
 portions, and, at the same time, the harmony 
 reigning throughout every detail of this unri- 
 valled Christian temple. It is beautiful in its 
 grand proportions, viewed as the shadows of eve 
 steal into the building, adding infinitely to the 
 
CEREMONIES AT ST. PETER'S. 83 
 
 massive and marble-cased pillars, like giants' 
 arms sustaining the fretted and gilded roof, and 
 investing with fresh sublimity that dome — the 
 miracle of modern architecture — " to which 
 Diana's wonder was a cell." 
 
 Beautiful it is, also, when the golden tints of 
 the Italian sun enter the sanctuary, as it admits 
 its evening beams through the lofty windows — 
 shedding its mellowing influence on all things 
 around, and imparting, perhaps, its warm glow 
 upon some picture of Guido or Carracci, and, 
 Prometheus-like, giving a life and inspiration to 
 the figures, so as almost to cheat the imagina- 
 tion ; while, in the holiness and silence of the 
 place, we for a moment expect them to start 
 from the canvas, and again to hold converse with 
 the things and beings of this world. 
 
 In a distant part of the building a figure, the 
 creation of a Canova, seems to be really engaged 
 in devotion, as the cold lines of the marble re- 
 ceive some reflexion of the warm tints of life; 
 while, in other statues nearer to our view, sprung 
 from the wand of the same magician, they seem 
 at least to have been once animated with the 
 breath of life, and call forcibly to mind the pale 
 and slumbering form, " ere the first day of death 
 
84 CEREMONIES AT ST. TETER's ; 
 
 has fled," bearing still upon the features all the 
 traces and stamp of beauty — the last glimpses 
 that affection may steal, when all that still re- 
 mains is equally recognised and loved — just 
 
 ** E'er decay's effacing fingers 
 Have swept the lines where beauty lingers." 
 
 But, in my mind, St. Peter's is never seen to 
 more advantage than when one of the pompous 
 and imposing ceremonies of the Roman Catholic 
 church is celebrated within its precincts. The 
 great head of the Church — the Supreme Pontiff of 
 the Catholic world — presides, attended by the cardi- 
 nals, and with a long train of prelates and priests. 
 
 On these occasions nothing is left undone 
 which can produce an effect. There is every- 
 thing to captivate the eye, to engage the feel- 
 ings, and to arrest the imagination. The effect 
 of such studied and imposing ceremony, where 
 nothing can be added to the appearance, but 
 grace, ease, and decorum reign throughout, is 
 to many minds overwhelming. Self-command 
 is lost amidst the glitter, the crowd, and the 
 solemnity ; and while the eyes and the ears 
 are engaged, reason is also led captive, and re- 
 flection falls bound to do homage at the chair of 
 
THEIR EFFECTS. 85 
 
 the Popes. With persons of such a character 
 this change is not unfrequently made, with re- 
 gard to their former religious opinions and future 
 inclination. But they are persons of an uniform 
 frame of mind, whose tone of thought is vacilla- 
 ting and indecisive ; superficial observers of things 
 themselves, their principles are not fixed upon a 
 basis capable of resisting influences that make their 
 approach even by the feeblest avenues of sense. 
 They are persons whose habits have been averse 
 to contemplation, or who, perhaps, are physically 
 incapable of dwelling upon the objects of the past, 
 or considering the hopes of the future. The spi- 
 ritual worship of the Deity is a topic too abstract 
 and refined for their ideas. If religion must sub- 
 sist with them, it is to be carried on only by sen- 
 sible images ; and the more numerous, novel, and 
 imposing, and at the same time adapted to their 
 office, are the objects presented to their view, the 
 more complete is their effect upon their character 
 and opinions. 
 
 But very different is the effect upon differently 
 constituted minds. The individual who has come 
 to the conclusion, by a process of plain reasoning, 
 that religion is a business of the heart, concerning 
 alone that part of his being which is immortal and 
 
86 CEREMONIES AT ST. PETER'S; 
 
 invisible, cannot look without wonder at those rites 
 which are clearly out of place in a system of wor- 
 ship, which the best test, experience, has proved 
 can subsist without them. But the feeling that is 
 excited in his mind is more than this : contempt 
 for those who can introduce into the house of God 
 forms, accompanied with music and military dis- 
 play, little, if anything removed from the repre- 
 sentations of the opera. And even by the ma- 
 jority of the spectators, native as well as stranger, 
 these things are looked upon more as an im- 
 posing pageant, as a gratification to the eye, 
 than with any specific object of strengthening 
 the tone of religious feeling, or improving the 
 heart. 
 
 As to devotion, generally speaking, it does not 
 seem to be present; and that reverence which 
 speaks from the features, but is principally visible 
 in the eye, when man feels his humility, and ac- 
 knowledges his dependence upon his Maker, is 
 certainly only to be observed at that brief interval 
 — a moment, however, which has everything added 
 to invest it with greater solemnity — when the host 
 is elevated, and, on these interesting occasions, by 
 the Pope himself. 
 
 The cardinals, who in great numbers are pre- 
 
THEIR EFFECTS. 87 
 
 sent, are engaged in chatting ; and the crowd, or 
 the congregation who attend, discuss matters hav- 
 ing no connexion with the spectacle before them — 
 the news of their social circles, or the last tidings 
 of importance from the two influential theatres of 
 England and France. In short, it would appear 
 to be enough to be present at these ceremonies, — 
 a taking part in them does not seem to be re- 
 garded as either necessary or indispensable. A 
 virtue seems to flow from the pontifical presence, 
 and a sacredness communicated from the place, of 
 which all are partakers. As handkerchiefs and 
 garments from St. Paul's person were miraculous 
 in their effects, so does the successor of St. Peter 
 impart a holiness to the air of his cathedral, which 
 supersedes the necessity of prayer, and of which 
 all who breathe feel their consciences lightened, 
 and their hopes strengthened or increased. 
 
 So unexpected by me was this absence, not of 
 decorum, but of devotion, that I acquainted an 
 English priest near me with my surprise. He 
 answered, that the Italians find it hard to divest 
 themselves of their flow of spirits — the undoubted 
 heritage of the inhabitants of the South — even in 
 their sacred things ; that this was a part of their 
 national character, as that of our nation is a gra- 
 
88 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 vity, belonging not only to the sanctuary, but in- 
 troduced more or less into the ordinary dealings 
 between one another. 
 
 This may be, to some extent, true. As soon as 
 we get to the Continent, there is nothing that will 
 be earlier remarked than the vivacity of our 
 French neighbours; and this trait is, no doubt, 
 surpassed by the gay and unrestrained feeling 
 pervading the population of Italy's sunnier clime. 
 But the contrast stole upon me unawares, as I 
 looked at the splendid scene and gorgeous cere- 
 mony before me, of the silent congregation of our 
 own English churches, attentive to every word, 
 and betraying in every look and gesture that spirit 
 of devotion which is kindled by a feeling that they 
 are then addressing that Being who holds their 
 lives in the hollow of his hand, and fed by the 
 reflection that their words are then ascending, like 
 the evening incense, in thanks for the past, and 
 firm reliance for the future. 
 
 But to return to the subject of the present chap- 
 ter. A little before nine o'clock on Christmas 
 morning, one of the three great doors of St. Peter's, 
 that nearest the Vatican Palace, opened, and a 
 procession, without any parallel in my experience, 
 entered from the stairs called " Scalae Sanctae." 
 
PROCESSION. 89 
 
 It was composed of a long retinue of cardinals, 
 priests, and religious attendants ; in the midst of 
 whom, the sun around whom these lesser planets 
 all revolved, came the Pope himself. 
 
 Gregory XVI., at the time that I had fre- 
 quently an opportunity of observing him, ap- 
 peared to be an old man, but he wore his age welL 
 Although the M via media" between eighty and 
 ninety had been passed, his form was still erect, 
 and betrayed but little of the infirmity which 
 usually follows in the footsteps of years. The fur- 
 rows which generally mark the cheek of the aged 
 were only perceptible ; and the decay of fire in his 
 eye had left much remaining, evidencing equally 
 acuteness and intelligence. Though he was old, 
 yet was he " strong and lusty ;" his " age was like 
 a lusty winter, frosty, but kindly." 
 
 The dress of the Pope is rather chaste than 
 splendid. It consists of an under robe of white 
 satin; another of the same material, with a not 
 very rich gold fringe, open in front, of the nature 
 of a cossack, is thrown over, and reaches to the 
 knees. Over this there is placed a tippet or hood, 
 having the cross worked upon the end§, and pro- 
 fusely ornamented with the Papal arms, the keys. 
 He wore white satin shoes, having a small cross 
 
90 PROCESSION. 
 
 worked upon the front of each; they were as 
 nicely made, and in every particular resembling 
 those that a lady would appear in at a ball-room. 
 He wore upon his head a small skull-cap of satin 
 also, which was not removed during the entire time 
 of his presence in St. Peter's. 
 
 The cardinals entered first — the number present 
 was about fifty, adding greatly to the interest and 
 splendour of the scene by their magnificent dresses. 
 Some wore mitres — by far the largest part; and a 
 few the round skull-cap of crimson silk. The 
 dress is a long and flowing robe of very fine crim- 
 son cloth, with a train of silk of a somewhat paler 
 hue, which is sometimes extended, and sweeps the 
 ground ; at others, twisted by the chaplain within 
 the smallest possible compass. Stockings of red 
 silk, and black shoes with silver buckles, complete 
 the figure. 
 
 The dress of the bishops is satin, interspersed 
 with gold lace, the figure of the cross being visible 
 upon the back, and upon the extremities of a hood 
 or robe depending from the shoulders. Each bears 
 a large gold chain, from which hangs a cross of the 
 same precious metal. The prelati, or monsig- 
 7107'eSy — persons not necessarily bishops, — form also 
 a part of the procession. They seem to be digni- 
 
GUARDIA NOBILE. 91 
 
 taries of the Church, or a higher order of the 
 priesthood. They wear the vestments of an offici- 
 ating priest, but are also distinguished by purple 
 stockings. These have no trains; that of the 
 cardinal sometimes hangs loosely on the ground, 
 at other times presents the form of a rope. 
 
 These altogether are very numerous, and form 
 a long procession, in the centre of which, in a 
 handsome chair or throne, his holiness is borne 
 by several men, clad in crimson dresses with 
 trousers fitting tightly to the leg. Those holding 
 office in the Papal cabinet walk nearest his person 
 — his prime minister, secretary, and chamberlain. 
 
 The " guardia nobile " follows, always attending 
 the Pope's person during the great festivals of the 
 Church. This is a splendid body of officers and 
 men, accoutred in the richest style, but an un- 
 expected accompaniment to the establishment of 
 a bishop of the Church, one of whose chief re- 
 quisites is humility. They consist solely of the 
 nobility of Rome. Privates and officers alike must 
 be equally removed from plebeian blood. They 
 make a fine appearance, and add not a little to the 
 effect of the ecclesiastical display. Their uniform 
 is a red coat covered with a profusion of lace, and 
 white leather trousers, large boots, and cocked 
 
92 PROCESSION. 
 
 hat, being on the whole not unlike the dress of 
 our staff officers. They have no duty but attend- 
 ance upon his Holiness on the great festival 
 days. Prince Barberini is the commander of the 
 corps. 
 
 An official bears an enormous fan, composed of 
 feathers, which he occasionally waves to and fro 
 for the purpose of cooling the air; and four others 
 bear a splendid canopy of silk, which is raised 
 above the Pope's head, and held still in that 
 position as they solemnly pass on through the 
 spacious and peerless aisle. 
 
 The points of precedence are observed with 
 great particularity, and some time is consumed in 
 observing the necessary forms, both at the entry 
 and departure from the cathedral. 
 
 On these occasions there is usually a large 
 attendance of troops in St. Peter's. On the pre- 
 sent day there were two lines of grenadiers reach- 
 ing from the door to the pontifical altar. Between 
 these the procession moved slowly on to the 
 chapel, which forms the farthest part of the cross 
 of the ground-plan. There the place is cushioned 
 and carpetted, and a throne raised for the Pope. 
 The Pope then descends from his chair, and is 
 led by two of the cardinals to the throne, where he 
 
SALUTATIONS. 93 
 
 at once assumes his seat. The " noble guard " 
 form lines on either side, and, what one would 
 hardly expect in so august a presence, remain 
 covered. The cardinals take their seats, and his 
 chaplain at the foot of each, occupy a single 
 bench reaching down either side of the high altar. 
 
 As soon as all are seated, divers salutations 
 take place between the cardinals. They bow 
 to and embrace each other; and this, unaccom- 
 panied with any audible expression, gives them 
 something of the appearance of automatons. They 
 go one by one to pay homage, or to make their 
 obeisance to the Pope, probably to renew their 
 fealty, when his foot is reverently kissed by each. 
 At this time part of the service goes on at the 
 altar, but slowly, as if for the purpose of not inter- 
 rupting the cardinals' duty to their superior. 
 
 One is quite at a loss to conjecture what these 
 bowings and salutations to each other have to say 
 to a rite avowedly maintained as a part of the 
 worship of God. No one except a spectator can 
 have any idea of them. Matthews, in his "Diary," 
 compares them, for which there was some excuse, 
 to Noodle and Doodle in the play, and at the same 
 time makes a remark, which one would hope is 
 not founded in truth, that at the moment the deity 
 
94 RULES AS TO FEMALES. 
 
 that fills their hearts and occupies their thoughts 
 is his holiness the Pope. 
 
 To the right of the high altar, upon a tempo- 
 rary platform, the choir of St. Peter's are present, 
 and chaunt a long part of the service. The num- 
 ber, however, is not large, nor the singing by any 
 means so good as at the vespers on some of the 
 great " eves," or in the Sistine Chapel. No 
 organ or instrument of music lends its aid to their 
 voices. 
 
 To the right and also to the left of the same 
 altar, but extending more towards the large aisle, 
 and consequently rather distant from the Papal 
 presence, enclosed seats are raised for the accom- 
 modation of the ladies. These are almost exclu- 
 sively kept for the "forestieri." 
 
 All ladies who would presume to approach so 
 holy an individual, and the great patron of celi- 
 bacy, must conform to certain rules in order to be 
 spectators upon these festivals. Particular atten- 
 tion must be paid to dress; black must be the 
 prevailing colour. Bonnets are strictly forbidden 
 — the reasons I could not learn ;* but, instead, a 
 black lace or muslin veil must be thrown over the 
 
 * They are a modern contrivance ; probably they savour too much 
 of the " Reformation.' 1 
 
SPLENDOUR OF THE DISPLAY. 95 
 
 head. This, I suppose, is to shade their features, 
 or to prevent the fascinating glances of the daugh- 
 ters of England or France from having too great 
 an effect. Among those who have foresworn the 
 sex, for ladies to appear in all their loveliness 
 might risk the breach of vows ; and, as one looks 
 at the sun without danger through a smoked glass, 
 so the veil has been well devised to counteract 
 any mischief that might accrue from the blaze of 
 bright or blue eyes. 
 
 The whole spectacle is now particularly inter- 
 esting, and cannot be easily forgotten by those 
 who have been fortunate enough to witness 
 it. The importance of the personages, the novelty 
 and variety of the costume, where the dress of the 
 Italian peasant has something equally character- 
 istic with that of the princes of the Church, cannot 
 fail to make a lasting impression even upon the 
 inattentive observer. 
 
 The scene is also not wanting in the magnificence 
 which attends the best European courts. Upon 
 a long bench are the ambassadors of nearly all the 
 kingdoms of Europe, clad in superb uniforms, the 
 representative of each monarch bearing upon his 
 breast the orders which he has obtained from his 
 master's hand. 
 
96 DOUBLE CHARACTER OF THE POPE. 
 
 It is, in fact, the holding of a court rather than 
 a service of the Church. The Bishop of Rome 
 truly presides at the altar, but beside him is the 
 tiara; he wears the mitre, but he is the crowned 
 head of the best part of Italy. It is an odd 
 anomaly, the union of the civil and the sacred 
 sword, the carnal and the spiritual things blended 
 together in a manner without precedent and without 
 parallel. There is an intertwining of the kingdom 
 which is of this world with that which is not, 
 which leaves one in great difficulty to discover how 
 the several parts can be managed to adhere, or 
 by what means they have been dovetailed together. 
 The time may arrive, probably, when the Italians 
 may make the distinction between regal and epis- 
 copal duties. The present order of things has 
 gone on so long, and has been so admirably man- 
 aged, — which the most powerful feelings in the 
 human heart have been enlisted to promote, — that 
 they have neither the time nor the inclination to 
 examine whether they are in the possession of the 
 shadow or the substance of freedom. 
 
 Yet these are the descendants of the Romans, 
 who bend obediently to the Pontiffs arm ? They 
 that kept the world in subjection are succeeded 
 in their soil by a still noble but unambitious race. 
 
REVERENCE PAID TO THE POPE. 97 
 
 Power has passed away from them ; their empire 
 has shrunk to but a small dominion; and in its 
 present state it exhibits but few of those glorious 
 institutions of freedom, found under the kings, the 
 c onsuls, or even the emperors. But who shall say 
 what advances in national prosperity and indivi- 
 dual happiness await them under the wise guid- 
 ance of a ruler such as now occupies the Palace 
 of the Vatican ? 
 
 But the scene is, indeed, well calculated to drive 
 all other emotions out of the mind. The noble 
 temple, which is at once the tomb of " the Prince 
 of the Apostles"* and the cathedral of his suc- 
 cessor, is before you, filled by a personage who has 
 played so important a part in the interests of the 
 world — to whom millions look up with a feeling 
 kindred more to devotion than respect — who is the 
 keystone in that ecclesiastical arch, which has its 
 materials throughout the habitable world, — the 
 prince, the head of the Church ! How many are 
 looking upon him with awe and reverence, with 
 feelings veTy different from that with which we 
 
 * So the Catholics think, and Peter is so called in the dedication 
 on the exterior of the church. However, an authority higher than 
 that of the Pope, the Scriptures, tells us that there was no 
 supremacy, but a perfect equality among the apostles of our Lord. 
 
 F 
 
98 REVERENCE PAID TO THE POPE. 
 
 contemplate kings! The latter may commute 
 or forgive offences against the laws of the state, 
 but this not only resides within the power of the 
 Pope, but the sins against a higher tribunal are 
 forthwith effaced from the conscience by the "absolvo 
 te" of the possessor of the Vatican. This feeling 
 will account for the crowds the occasion has called 
 together, and for the silent attention which per- 
 vades the multitude. 
 
 The appearance of the whole church is now 
 particularly striking. Groups are formed through 
 various parts of the immense building, some con- 
 sidering carefully a picture or statue, or resting 
 impatiently until the procession shall be again 
 formed. Occasionally your eye will rest upon the 
 attendants of the cardinals, carrying the wide- 
 leaved red hat, with its tassels hanging loosely 
 down, and their cloak of the same gaudy colour. 
 The Inglese are also very numerous, apparently 
 tired out and anxious for the close. Here were 
 to be seen several of her Majesty's uniforms of the 
 regiments of the line, staff-dresses, or those of the 
 county deputy-lieutenants. These uniforms are 
 particularly useful on the Continent, and are a 
 passport to everything in church or palace. 
 
 But by half-past twelve o'clock high mass is 
 
PAPAL BENEDICTION. 99 
 
 concluded, and his holiness ascends, with a firm 
 step, the pontifical altar, while the thousands 
 present fall on their knees, and the military lower 
 their arms. He stretches out his arms towards 
 the vast multitude, and in a loud and sonorous 
 voice pronounces his blessing. There is then a mo- 
 ment's pause ; but soon the din is heard again, and 
 all parties prepare to leave St. Peter's, and the 
 cardinals, &c. to take their allotted places in the 
 closing procession. 
 
 The procession is formed in the same manner as 
 in the morning. The space between the military 
 is speedily filled by ecclesiastics; the cardinals, 
 in great number and variety, with their trains well 
 twisted, attended by their chaplains, each bearing 
 a mitre, take their posts. The Pope's chair is in 
 readiness, and he soon ascends it, smiling com- 
 placently upon those who are near him. The 
 canopy and the fan are erected, and bishops, 
 priests, and sacristans follow in the rear. Now 
 the mitre is removed from the Pope's head, and a 
 crown or tiara is placed thereon. He for a while 
 takes leave of the bishop, and appears in the 
 character of a temporal prince, or crowned head. 
 This crown is not showy ; the groundwork is 
 white silk, upon which are many diamonds and 
 
 f2 
 
100 CLOSE OF THE PROCESSION. 
 
 some other gems : there is but little gold. The 
 top is surmounted by a cross of brilliants. 
 
 As the Pope is carried through the throng, slowly 
 and solemnly, his hands are ever moving, form- 
 ing the sign of the cross in the air as he passes 
 along. There are not less than five hundred 
 ecclesiastics in this procession ; and when the no- 
 velty and splendour of the dresses are considered, 
 the effect of the display may be judged of. The 
 gigantic roof of St Peter's is spread above, and 
 the lofty dome hangs over all as a canopy. The 
 gorgeous embellishments of the pillars and walls 
 also lend their effect to this matchless spec- 
 tacle. But the door is now gained, and with 
 the same order and silence the procession files off 
 to the Vatican on the right. The Pope retires, 
 and the cardinals one by one drive away in their 
 showy and splendid equipages. 
 
GIORNO DI PASCHA. 101 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 CEREMONIES AT EASTER. THE POPE RECEIVES THE EUCHARIST 
 
 SITTING. — ELEVATION OP THE HOST. THE POPE BLESSES THE 
 
 PEOPLE FROM THE BALCONY OP ST. PETER'S. CHURCH OP THE 
 
 AUGUSTINES. — IMAGE OP THE VIRGIN. — IS MUCH CELEBRATED. 
 — ITS OFFERINGS. 
 
 The ceremonies upon the Giorno di Pascha 
 (Easter Sunday) are very similar to those which 
 take place at Christmas. The same part of St. 
 Peter's is fitted up, and the same accommodation 
 provided for all who are disposed to attend. But 
 upon this occasion there is rather more pomp in the 
 procession, and the cardinals are more numerous. 
 The great central portal is also thrown open, the 
 only occasion throughout the whole year, to admit, 
 as it were, the Pope triumphing by reason of the 
 resurrection of our Lord. 
 
 The whole troops of the garrison also attend, 
 each with their very fine bands. Of these a con- 
 siderable number are to be found within the walls, 
 
102 PAPAL TROOPS. 
 
 but the majority are drawn up in lines in the 
 piazza in front. These have their colours, and 
 all the implements of war. The dresses of the 
 troops are beautiful, and in this respect they 
 make up for the want of spirit which is said 
 to characterise the Papal army. They look 
 martial, although they are not so. They are not 
 present for the purpose of checking an emeute, 
 but for the purpose of display. A finer-looking 
 body of men, and better accoutred, it would be 
 impossible to find; but still they are lamentably 
 deficient in the characteristics of an army — energy 
 and resolution. They are the descendants of the 
 conquerors of the world, so that climate or blood 
 has not degenerated them. 
 
 It must not, however, strike us with surprise 
 that the army of a spiritual ruler — kept not so 
 much for the purpose of preventing aggression, 
 as for keeping its own population within bounds 
 — should be deficient in those characteristics 
 which are found among more enterprising and 
 powerful nations. The offices of peace have 
 been more successfully cultivated than those of 
 war, and the minds of the people more directed to 
 the church than the camp. Rome, too, generally 
 endeavours to prevail more by moral force than 
 
APPEARANCE OF ST. PETER'S. I OS 
 
 physical power. Hence this department has, of 
 course, been neglected; but it by no means implies, 
 that, if it became necessary, and due care were 
 taken, her soldiers would be found deficient in 
 virtue or valour. 
 
 The Papal ensign floats on the Castle of St. 
 Angelo, once the mausoleum of Adrian ; and 
 already a few guns announce that the ceremonies 
 are about to commence — the tomb, as it were, 
 opening its mouth to herald in the day. Shortly 
 after the procession forms, and is seen slowly 
 descending the Scalse Sanctae ; in the midst of whom 
 the Supreme Pontiff occupies his usual elevated 
 position, attended by his ministers and cardinals. 
 They soon enter the great portal, pass along the 
 noblest hall in all the world, and all take their 
 allotted seats. The coup oVozil is very imposing. 
 The ecclesiastics of all ranks are much more 
 numerous than upon Christmas Day, and, as is 
 always the case during the Santa Settemana, the 
 attendance of foreigners greatly augmented. The 
 ambassadors 1 seats are filled with the representa- 
 tives of the courts of Europe ; while the military 
 and clerical habits, in a peaceful union blended, 
 meet the eye at every turn of the cathedral. The 
 choir are in their places, and one of the most 
 
104 THE POPE RECEIVES THE EUCHARIST. 
 
 distant balconies is occupied by the best regimental 
 band, whose music is heard, however, but at one 
 moment during the entire service. 
 
 There is little or no variety in the ceremonies. 
 The cardinals kiss and salute each other as usual, 
 and they each renew their homage to the Pope. 
 Their chaplains sit at the feet of each, in look and 
 gesture evidencing the most complete obedience. 
 High mass commences, a cardinal and some 
 bishops assisting. Occasionally the fine and clear 
 voices of the choir chaunt some of the parts, 
 coming upon the ear with a full effect through the 
 massive halls. 
 
 In Italy every one is born a musician, so that it 
 is an easy matter to obtain first-rate artists ; but 
 the Pope's choirs have always had the character of 
 the highest excellence. At one time their united 
 voices come so as to almost overwhelm you ; at 
 another moment, the sweet clear tones of a single 
 individual speak to the feelings, as if we were 
 addressed by a being of another world. 
 
 I remarked upon the altar some splendid com- 
 munion plate. The chalice is gold, and set with 
 gems, and is a present, as I learned, from the last 
 of the Stuarts.* This day is remarkable on 
 
 * Who was in orders, and a Cardinal at Rome. 
 
ELEVATION OF THE HOST. 105 
 
 account of the Pope receiving the eucharist. It is 
 an interesting spectacle, as his method of receiving 
 it differs from all the world. It is usual to receive 
 the elements in a reverential posture, and so do 
 nearly all denominations of Christians. But the 
 Pope, presuming upon his intimacy with our Lord, 
 from his office of vicegerent, always receives it 
 sitting. The cardinal who officiated at the altar, and 
 the bishop, approached his Holiness, bearing the 
 paten and chalice. The Pope received with much 
 apparent devotion, but with a vast deal of cere- 
 mony. As they approached and retired from him, 
 they bowed repeatedly. During all this time there 
 was a solemn silence, and all were attentive. None 
 of the cardinals or other officials present were com- 
 municants. It seemed to be enough for all that 
 his Holiness should partake of it. 
 
 The part of the service of the day, however, 
 which was particularly solemn and impressive, was 
 the elevation of the host. For this purpose, 
 Gregory XVI. was conducted from his chair of state 
 to the high altar. When he had repeated some 
 prayers, he laid his hands on the vessel which con- 
 tains the host: immediately the vast multitude, 
 military, priests, and people, bent on their knees 
 
 f5 
 
106 ELEVATION OF THE HOST. 
 
 to the earth. A deep silence followed. The 
 Pope slowly lifted up the host, while a burst of 
 instrumental music from a distant part of the 
 church produced a startling effect. 
 
 Nothing could be more remarkable and imposing 
 than the scene at this moment. The thousands 
 who are present, some of whom a little before were 
 engaged in devotion, some in conversation, seemed 
 rivetted to the earth under the influence of one 
 feeling; the figure of the Pope alone standing 
 erect, with his snowy hair stealing from under 
 the mitre, dressed in his gorgeous robes, with his 
 hands uplifted, containing what was by him and 
 them conceived the very body of their Lord. The 
 people looked as though they had been stricken 
 or paralysed by disease, and he, as another Moses, 
 bidding them look upon him and be healed. 
 Motion, nay, almost life, seemed to have left them, 
 while their high priest appeared alone to live, 
 stretching out his hands to heaven in their behalf. 
 The Pope was now seen to great advantage. He 
 seemed to be engrossed in his work. Decision and 
 devotion marked the lines of his features ; he 
 looked as though he had an onerous task confided 
 to him, and that it was all-important that he should 
 discharge it well. 
 
AN IMPOSING RITE. 107 
 
 A ceremony such as this, conducted with the 
 most laboured regard to effect, is very apt inde- 
 libly to impress weakly constituted minds. At 
 these very moments, overwhelmed as much by 
 the novelty as the grandeur of the spectacle, the 
 affections are won to this religion of pageantry 
 and parade, and the resolution is perhaps formed to 
 henceforth take refuge in its bosom. The senses 
 are fascinated, and the reason becomes with them 
 a willing victim. They assert at once that it is the 
 splendour only of truth — the magnificence worthy 
 of Jehovah. But if that mind could for a moment 
 hesitate, and examine upon what weak founda- 
 tions the whole system is built, the conclusion 
 arrived at might be very different. That vessel, 
 held with such care for the veneration of those 
 around, contains only the simple substance of 
 bread, if the testimony of the senses is to be 
 depended on, and not the word of the priest. It 
 is not the element itself that is so valuable, as the 
 spirit with which it is approached. But religion, 
 in its two great branches, — external and internal, — 
 will always have its two classes of votaries. They 
 who neglect the heart, will make up the defect by 
 ample concessions to sense, and vice versa. The 
 latter will avail themselves of as many ceremonies 
 
108 THE POPE BLESSES THE PEOPLE 
 
 as are necessary to maintain religion, and not to 
 overwhelm it under an unseemly load. 
 
 Immediately after the elevation the procession 
 is formed, and the Pope and his splendid retinue 
 retire from St. Peter's. The ceremony of the day, 
 however, has not yet closed. All are anxious to 
 obtain a place upon the steps in front of the portico, 
 or at least a place in the piazza, as the Pope upon 
 this day is accustomed to bless the people from the 
 great balcony. 
 
 Probably one-fourth of the population, on these 
 occasions, is to be found in the front of St. Peter's. 
 The peasantry, with their picturesque dresses, 
 checquer the crowd, having come in from many miles 
 around the city. The regular clergy, with their 
 peculiar habits, are seen at hand in great numbers, 
 shewing by their looks and demeanour a great 
 anxiety to participate in the expected blessing. 
 The gay uniforms of the military relieve the darker 
 dresses of the crowd, and their arms, polished to 
 perfection, glitter in the dazzling sunshine. Ban- 
 ners wave in the Vatican circus— hurrying the 
 mind back involuntarily to the cohorts and cen- 
 turies of other days. Here and there a mother 
 holds her children in her arms, and her eyes are 
 ever fixed upon the place where his Holiness is to 
 
FROM THE BALCONY. 109 
 
 appear; while the foreigners, French, English, 
 and Russian, evincing more curiosity than devo- 
 tion, are fully as desirous as the natives to obtain 
 good places, and to watch the exciting scene to 
 its close. 
 
 After twenty minutes had elapsed, the venerable 
 figure of the Pope was descried, and forthwith all 
 the great multitude fell upon their knees. The po- 
 sition he occupied was so elevated that it was almost 
 impossible to catch his words ; but he stretched out 
 his hands towards them, and pronounced the bene- 
 diction, imploring that the blessings of Heaven 
 might rest upon them. His heart was in his words, 
 and he looked down, as well with affection as 
 with authority, upon the people who acknowledged 
 him as at once their prince and priest. 
 
 One of the cardinals then threw down a few 
 •? indulgences," for which there was a complete 
 scramble. The people arose from their knees with 
 lighter hearts and brighter eyes; the peasantry 
 with a quick step returned to their abodes, and the 
 mother joyfully led away her children, who had 
 probably, for the first time, been blessed by the 
 Pope. 
 
 The church of the Augustines is in the Via 
 Augustini. It belongs to the monks of that name, 
 
110 CHURCH OF THE AUGUSTINES. 
 
 who have their principal establishment here. It is 
 an extensive and not un ornamental structure. The 
 revenues are very rich, arising chiefly from offer- 
 ings of the worshipers at the shrine of the Virgin. 
 At some time or other you will find the various 
 churches deserted, the congregation being reduced 
 to the curate or the sacristan, but it seems to be a 
 continual festival in the Chiesa di Augustini. Aged 
 men and well-dressed women are ever arriving or 
 retiring, and a goodly number are always to be found 
 on their knees. The reason is, that the church 
 is peculiarly sacred to the Virgin, and wonders have 
 been worked, it is said, by her interposition. 
 
 The church is interesting, as it contains many 
 monuments and pictures ; the interior of the dome, 
 also, being admirably painted. But the object 
 which is sure to attract the especial notice of the 
 stranger is the altar of the Virgin. There are 
 several others, but that appropriated to her is the 
 most frequented and remarkable. Placed upon it 
 — the altar being the pedestal — is a well-executed 
 marble statue of the Virgin. It is clearly not of 
 a modern date; it bears the usual likeness, not 
 the " madre addoloratcC that lives in the canvas 
 of Guercino, but bland and encouraging. The 
 drapery is good and correct ; but we find upon it 
 
IMAGE OF THE VIRGIN. Ill 
 
 several valuable offerings of gold, silver, and gems. 
 The bosom is covered with a splendid diamond 
 necklace, and earrings of the same costly stone 
 depend from the ears, presented, doubtless, by 
 some wealthy or noble house. 
 
 I spent a long time looking at the worshipers 
 in this temple. As soon as they enter, they at 
 once repair to the Virgin's shrine, make their 
 obeisance, repeat their prayers, and conclude with 
 an affectionate kiss upon the foot of the statue, at 
 the same time dropping a piece of money into a 
 small box near at hand. It is singular with what 
 reverence they approach ; it could hardly be more if 
 the Virgin herself were present. The crowds that 
 frequent this place, and perform their devotions 
 here, may be judged of from the fact that their 
 kisses have actually worn out the original foot 
 (the right), and the monks of the Augustinian 
 fraternity have been under the necessity of re- 
 placing it with one of brass, the latter metal being 
 probably the most abundant in the convent. 
 
 This would hardly be believed, but is a fact, 
 and incontrovertible. It is not the only statue 
 which has in part disappeared by the frequent 
 kisses of the faithful — so singularly sincere are they 
 in this lip-service. This was a caution equally 
 
112 WORSHIP OF THE VIRGIN. 
 
 wise and justifiable, that the coffers of the church 
 migfht not suffer diminution, and that the part so 
 sacred might not cease to communicate its virtue. 
 
 The contemplation of this spectacle is calcu- 
 lated to raise an inquiry as to the nature and ten- 
 dency of the Roman Catholic religion. Far be it 
 from me to imagine that they have so far deviated 
 from the path of truth, as to have engrafted upon 
 Christianity pagan practices. I am sure they think 
 the religion that they have had handed down to 
 them too pure and too perfect, to require such 
 anomalous aids; too simple, to be incorporated 
 with superstition ; and, above all, too true, to suffer 
 any admixture with error. But I will simply de- 
 tail what I saw — what is always to be seen in this 
 church ; and doubts, I fear, may be entertained whe- 
 ther these reflections are fully borne out. To 
 accuse them of idolatry, I should be sorry. I will 
 mention only patent facts ; and if such a charge 
 may be at all hinted, it is their fault, not mine. 
 
 The act of worship was undoubtedly paid to an 
 image, a correct resemblance of the human form, 
 chiselled by human art. Part of that image was 
 reverently kissed. Orisons were breathed, sins 
 confessed, and offerings were given. They bent 
 before it, apparently telling the secrets of their 
 
WORSHIP OF THE VIRGIN. 113 
 
 hearts, asking forgiveness, pleading their requests, 
 or demanding strength. Their eyes were fixed 
 upon the moulded marble ; to the spectator dis- 
 closing the state of the heart fully as well as the 
 language of the lips. Submission, dependence, 
 entreaty, were legibly written there. Looking to 
 it, it seemed as though it was deemed cognisant of 
 their thoughts, capable of appreciating their ser- 
 vice. The worshipers also, no doubt, retired 
 with hearts easier and consciences lighter. 
 
 It may be said that none of that worship rested 
 on the image, that it flowed from the type to the 
 prototype, that it only represented a being to their 
 minds in another place, and that, consequently, 
 they are not justly chargeable with the act of idol- 
 worship. Unquestionably to the educated and the 
 learned practices so gross and indefensible cannot 
 be imputed. I cannot for a moment imagine that 
 the mind enlarged by study, or enlightened by 
 prayer, would condescend to so puerile a practice. 
 But with the great majority, the ignorant and un- 
 reflecting multitude, were these distinctions pre- 
 sent? Religion to them has been ever one of 
 sensible images, and probably spirituality has never 
 influenced their worship. When they invoke the 
 statue, it is a question whether their thoughts are 
 
114 OFFERINGS. 
 
 not circumscribed by its canopy. In the pomp of 
 dress, in the glare of gems and gold, with the 
 attending priests, and all the other parts which 
 come in to arrest and engage the mind, did their 
 thoughts at all wander beyond the marble repre- 
 sentation of the human figure before which they 
 knelt ? 
 
 The fame of the statue is very great, and upon 
 festival days no church in Rome has a more nu- 
 merous congregation. They are not confined to 
 persons residing within the parish, but the religious 
 from various quarters of the city attend. The 
 appearance of the church is very peculiar. Upon 
 the lower part of the walls, the backs of the doors, 
 and, in fact, upon every available space, offerings 
 or testimonials to the Virgin of some sort or other 
 are placed. In many cases these are hearts made 
 of thin plates of silver, and in others are well- 
 executed paintings of various curious scenes. As 
 I was looking at both with an examinative eye, I 
 ventured to ask a priest who happened to be near 
 what they meant. He at once answered, that they 
 were presented by persons who, suffering either by 
 sickness or accident, had vowed something to the 
 " Santa Maria " during their illness or danger, and 
 upon recovery there attested the fulfilment of their 
 
EX VOTO PICTURES. 115 
 
 vows.* The priest remarked that the persons had 
 been cured or healed by " the intercession " of the 
 Virgin. 
 
 The pictures were sometimes grave, sometimes 
 grotesque, but, I have no doubt, were suggested by 
 facts. (I should have mentioned that they are 
 generally small.) Here you might see an unfor- 
 tunate mason tumbling to the ground — " vires acqui- 
 rens eundo " — from a lofty building, the ladder 
 having given way ; here a poor driver with his leg 
 under a heavy waggon, the vicious horse alter- 
 nately elevating his legs, and looking as if he 
 would never stop till he had dispossessed himself 
 of the vehicle piecemeal. Again, you might dis- 
 cover a ship tossed in a tempest, the sea all surge, 
 and the men, like true Italian sailors, not guiding 
 the helm or trimming their bark, but pale with 
 terror and on their knees. Then, from the 
 chapter of accidents to that of sickness : you 
 might behold a poor patient recumbent in bed, 
 bottles and pills in abundance, with features deeply 
 dyed with gamboge or yellow fever. Rencontres 
 with brigands are also to be found ; guns making 
 fearful destruction, and stilettos sticking to the 
 hilt, where those heartless inhabitants of the forest 
 
 * Called " ex voto pictures." 
 
116 EX VOTO PICTURES. 
 
 or the mountain had left them. A person at first 
 sight would be inclined to think half of them 
 incurable ; but the greater the peril, the greater 
 the honour to the church of the Augustines. 
 
 These, accompanied as they always are by more 
 or less scudi Romani, are always welcome to the 
 brotherhood. They are at once unquestionable 
 evidences of their patroness's power, and proofs of 
 the worshipers'' gratitude. I have observed that 
 these are never taken down j and where there must 
 be a rivalry among so many churches, since a sort 
 of miraculous power is thus arrogated, the priest 
 of the fane evidently looks up with pride to these 
 honourable records. 
 
 These singular offerings are not confined to this 
 church, but are to be found in many others. This 
 church of the Augustines is in the neighbourhood 
 of the post-office, and not far from the Corso. 
 
PROCESSIONS. 117 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 PROCESSION OP THE CIRCUMCISION. — ESPOSITIONE BELLA SANTA 
 VIRGINE. A WOODEN IMAGE IS BORNE ALONG. CLERICAL CON- 
 VERTS. — PROBABLE ORIGIN OF THE PROCESSION. PROCESSION 
 
 OF THE HOST. 
 
 A principal part of the religious mechanism 
 of Rome is the procession. As the name imports, 
 it consists of a crowd of ecclesiastics and laymen, 
 who make a progress through the city upon certain 
 occasions with great pomp and circumstance. That 
 of the host is common to other Catholic countries 
 as well as Italy; but upon certain anniversaries 
 these solemn processions peculiar to Rome take 
 place, in which either a sacred banner, statue, or 
 relic is borne along. They are numerously at- 
 tended by both priests and people : by the latter 
 this is esteemed as much a duty as attendance at 
 church. The priests lead the front, bearing in a 
 sacred band whatever the Church sends into public; 
 they all wear their surplices and vestments. The 
 
118 THE CIRCUMCISION. 
 
 people go generally uncovered. They are ordered 
 by the Church for the special purpose of keeping 
 religion alive among the people, as well as to im- 
 press them with the importance of their spiritual 
 guides. Frequently, on these occasions, an elo- 
 quent monk or curate ascends a rostrum, and 
 addresses with great vehemence and fervour his 
 moveable congregation. Whether one wills it or 
 not, he must become a listener, as the crowd for 
 the most part blocks up the street. However, 
 there is no fear of falling asleep, as drones are 
 excluded from this office, and the address is gene- 
 rally energetic and short. 
 
 It was on the Circumcision, January 1, 184 — , 
 that my progress in the Strada de due Marcelli was 
 arrested by the procession of the day. It was 
 headed by twelve priests, apparently not above the 
 rank of rector, in their officiating dresses. Then 
 came some religious attendants, or Church officers, 
 bearing a painting of the Virgin, and behind them a 
 black crucifix of moderate dimensions. Some large 
 wax candles were also carried, although in the face 
 of day. 
 
 As soon as the whole group had turned the 
 corner of the Collegio di Propaganda Fede, the 
 person with the picture of the Virgin drew near, 
 
A PRIEST STREET PREACHER. 119 
 
 and they stopped: a table which they carried was 
 arranged as a temporary pulpit, which a priest 
 having ascended, he began to address the multi- 
 tude. My knowledge of the Italian at the time 
 was not very perfect, but sufficient to observe the 
 scope of his discourse, and to what subjects he 
 drew the attention of his hearers. The manner of 
 the preacher was unquestionably sincere, as it was 
 warm; his voice firm and commanding, and his 
 action theatrical to a great degree. The Virgin 
 was held on his right hand; to it during his dis- 
 course, with all vehemence and earnestness, he 
 pointed. " Santissima Maria " was the theme, the 
 beginning and the ending of his address, while far 
 behind, unmentioned and unnoticed, was the cru- 
 cifix. As he urged the topic of repentance, and 
 pointed out the fitness of the day, commencing a 
 new year, for reformation and amendment, he 
 dwelt little upon the name of God, but that of the 
 Virgin repeatedly occurred. " Santissima Maria" 
 ever and anon, in the language of the sweet south, 
 fell on the ear from the not inharmonious voice of 
 the speaker. The name of " Gesu " was but once 
 or twice during the whole time mentioned. To the 
 Virgin he pointed while he bade them date a new life 
 from this period; to her he pointed while he asked 
 
120 A PRIEST STREET PREACHER. 
 
 them to hope for the happiness of heaven. Upon 
 her he turned his eyes, full and significant as they 
 were, while bewailing the sins and guilt of his 
 hearers : he invoked her protection, or implored her 
 intercession. And as he concluded with a blessing 
 that they might improve in Christian perfection, 
 and attend the duties of the Church, to the picture 
 he looked affectionately, imploring that that bless- 
 ing might be confirmed. 
 
 The effect of this address upon the hearers was 
 the usual one upon like occasions. Some appeared 
 to take what he said to heart, and to profit by the 
 occasion ; while others hurried off to their occu- 
 pations, right well pleased that the preacher had 
 made such short work of it. It seems to be hardly 
 possible to impress with seriousness the younger 
 part of an Italian auditory. On these occasions 
 they look like chained antelopes; but the more 
 staid and elder part appear to regard the business 
 with due decorum and becoming spirit 
 
 Having received these impressions from those 
 around me, I observed the speaker suddenly close 
 his harangue. He descended from his temporary 
 pulpit. The crowd dispersed, and the priests took 
 their former place — leading the way. The picture 
 of the Virgin was carried before them, and the 
 
ESPOSITIONE DELLA VIRGINE. 121 
 
 crucifix, as usual, took up its place behind. They 
 moved on, and passed from my view, to address in 
 some other street the populace of Rome. 
 
 It was about the middle of March, when the 
 days at Rome begin to assume the heat of our 
 summer, — and this particular, no less than the 
 entire absence of those easterly winds so severely 
 felt at home, convinces us of the genial climate of 
 the south of Europe, — that I was on the look-out for 
 one of the chief processions which annually takes 
 place. It was kept holy-day. The people were 
 arrayed in their best clothes. The scultore laid 
 aside his fustian suit, and il pittore his bedaubed 
 garments, each bearing indications of their re- 
 spective professions ; while many of the peasantry 
 were to be seen in the streets — the men with their 
 tawny visages and slouched hats, and the women 
 equally dark, but set off to the best advantage with 
 the white head-dress, gaudy stomacher, and bor- 
 dered gown. Ponderous earrings and brooches 
 shewed that their condition was not bad, even 
 though the material were pinchbeck. It was easy 
 to distinguish the citizen from the country women ; 
 the former are quite fair, the narrow streets and 
 lofty houses keeping off the sun's rays, and serving 
 to preserve their complexions. The windows of 
 
 G 
 
122 ESPOSITIONE DELLA 
 
 the houses were thrown open, from which depended 
 draperies of various designs and hues. Curtains 
 and carpets, dissimilar in length and pattern, un- 
 dulated in the breeze. One might have thought 
 every house a haberdasher's shop, and that 
 a ruinous competition was going on amongst 
 them. 
 
 Every window was open, and in many cases 
 already occupied ; the persons in them displaying 
 by their uneasy motions and anxious looks, how 
 much alive their curiosity was. Several false 
 alarms were given, as a more than usual crowd 
 appeared, or a cardinal's carriage rolled along the 
 stone-paved streets. On these occasions the beau- 
 ties of modern Rome disclosed their dark eyes and 
 darker tresses to the passenger, as they leaned out 
 to catch the first glimpse of the expected pageant 
 
 From the appearance of the city, the gay dresses 
 of the crowd, and the no less novel draperies of the 
 houses, combined with the attention universally 
 displayed, it seemed as if all parties united to do 
 the highest honour to some sovereign prince or 
 national benefactor. It suggested to me the idea 
 of a triumph of old, which was wont to tread the 
 way to the Capitol, when the matrons or the 
 daughters of Rome cast flowers in the path of the 
 
SANTA VIRGINE. 123 
 
 elated victor. Probably the houses wore this very 
 same appearance on those great days of ovation; 
 and as the procession passed, it would only want 
 the shouts that rent the air to complete the 
 parallel. One would have thought, from observ- 
 ing the multitude, that they regarded it as an evil 
 of very serious magnitude if it should escape un- 
 noticed. They do, indeed, conceive that a salu- 
 tary effect ensues from partaking in these services 
 of the Church, just as the lower orders of the Irish 
 attend every funeral in the neighbourhood, think- 
 ing it to be a meritorious duty. 
 
 After due delay, at length, 1 espied the proces- 
 sion coming from a street that connects the Propa- 
 ganda with the Corso. Several men in blue calico 
 habits led the way, and seemed to be the pioneers. 
 A large and lofty image of the Virgin was borne 
 upon a platform by a considerable number of men. 
 Its weight was considerable, as they sweated under 
 the load. It was, as I afterwards discovered, the 
 altar-piece of a neighbouring parish church. The 
 execution of the figure was good, and it wore that 
 bland and patronising look equally illustrative of 
 condescension and power. It was painted in gaudy 
 colours — the eternal sky-blue and rich crimson, 
 which are so misplaced in all the religious pic- 
 
 G 2 
 
124 THE PROCESSION. 
 
 tures. There was a crown of tinsel upon the 
 head — the emblem of empire ; and the hands were 
 stretched forth either in a posture of supplication 
 or blessing. 
 
 To this image much virtue is attached ; al- 
 though not so durable as the several marble sta- 
 tues, it shares equally with them the confidence of 
 priest and people. Although the espositione takes 
 place but on one day of the year, the clergy do 
 not hesitate to parade it through the streets as 
 a sort of palladium in times of trouble or danger. 
 Many interesting things are, no doubt, connect- 
 ed with its history — the cures wrought by it, &c. 
 — could we only learn them. Be this as it may, 
 it was borne with as much pomp, and guarded 
 with as much care, as was of old the celebrated 
 safeguard of Troy. 
 
 The priests in the procession were very nume- 
 rous, consisting of rectors, canons, and curates. 
 None of the fraternities were present. The priests 
 wore their vestments — those with which they usu- 
 ally celebrate high-mass. I recognised some, also, 
 with the yellow cloak shot with silk and gold, bear- 
 ing upon the back a large impression of the cross. 
 They also wore those small caps, which, because I 
 suppose we usually associate them with children, 
 
STOP AT THE CONVENTS. 125 
 
 looked anything but ecclesiastical. Several of the 
 cardinals' servants were present in their rich live- 
 ries, representing no doubt their masters, after the 
 same manner that empty carriages are sent to 
 funerals, while the proprietors eat or sleep at 
 home. 
 
 Many young men walked by the side of the 
 Virgin, in white dresses fringed with lace, which 
 reached as far as the knee. These were probably 
 young men about to be admitted into the priest- 
 hood, or who had already received some of the initi- 
 atory orders. They bore large flambeaux of wax, 
 which in the bright sunshine emitted but a sickly 
 glare. The great luminary, one would have 
 thought, was enough to light them on their way, 
 but like other things in their system, the gifts of 
 Heaven are not sufficient, but its records must be 
 read and interpreted by human light. 
 
 At the monasteries and convents the whole 
 body arrested its movements as soon as the Virgin 
 arrived opposite the door. The bearers then 
 placed her fronting the religious edifice, while the 
 priests commenced a short service, consisting of 
 prayer, and concluded with a brief address. I 
 observed that the whole company knelt and were 
 uncovered ; a custom with which, for the sake of 
 
126 CLERICAL CONVERTS. 
 
 the people's feelings and prepossessions, it is 
 necessary for even strangers in some degree 
 to comply. 
 
 The spectacle was extraordinary, and I found 
 it difficult to reconcile to myself that it was a 
 Christian observance, or that the worship of the 
 Supreme Being had any connexion with it. Such 
 things at Benares or Pekin would not strike us 
 with surprise, but to the Englishman they are 
 marvellous, accustomed to modest Romanism at 
 home. He is more inclined to conclude that it 
 is another form of religion than that which noise- 
 lessly exists at Liverpool and London. However, 
 the Roman Catholic religion would be the same 
 everywhere, if they were possessed of the power. 
 The provinces would " do as Rome does " if the 
 priests were paramount. The latter, probably, 
 look forward to the day when the Metropolis shall 
 witness such processions as those I have described ; 
 and they think they have gone a step in the right 
 direction, when, M Prohpudor /" some of the clergy 
 of our Church, caught by the tinsel of statues, and 
 fascinated by the splendour of ceremonies, have 
 thrown away the Bible and taken up the breviary. 
 The desertion is to be deplored, but the deserters 
 are to be pitied. Such are always suspected in the 
 
 ; 
 
THE PROCESSION. 127 
 
 camp. Do they deserve a better fate in the Church? 
 The " marks" of a true Church have called them 
 away to Rome. The " mark " of truth is sim- 
 plicity ; it only becomes suspected by being 
 buried under a load of observance and ceremonial.* 
 They can only bear what is old and honoured by 
 time: like those who make collections and mu- 
 seums, they can admit nothing but antiques. 
 But how old is the procession and veneration for 
 images? Not coeval with Christianity, nor to 
 be found in the primitive Church. Centuries had 
 passed away, the religion had become old, before the 
 Italians revived those obsolete customs of their 
 pagan progenitors. Then age after age added 
 something to the body of the Church, as it suited 
 the expediency of the times or the invention of 
 the Popes, till we see it deformed and defaced as it 
 is to be found at Rome. 
 
 When the service was concluded at the mo- 
 nastery, the procession was again in motion, and 
 passed down the Corso, every moment adding to 
 its numbers. Every individual whom they met 
 removed at once his hat, and remained uncovered 
 until all had passed on. 
 
 * To it we may apply what is said of beauty : — 
 
 " Beauty when unadorn'd, adorn'd the most." 
 
128 A PARALLEL. 
 
 It was impossible for me, as I beheld this reli- 
 gious spectacle, to refrain from comparing it with 
 some of the ceremonies of other climes, upon which 
 the light of Christianity has not so deeply pene- 
 trated as to remove the darkness which involves 
 the mass of their inhabitants. In the case before 
 me, as in those to which I allude, an efficacy or 
 virtue seems to accompany, or to reside within, the 
 image. It was in both not only an object of in- 
 terest but of duty to swell the numbers that at- 
 tended, and to join in the showy rites in the pro- 
 gression from temple to temple. The respect in 
 both cases appeared to a great extent to be similar, 
 and we only required one or two additional circum- 
 stances to complete the parallel. 
 
 Let me put a case: suppose a native of the 
 African wild, a stranger to the arts of civilization, 
 and equally ignorant of revelation, and of its effects 
 upon the European continent, were a spectator of 
 the scene : it may well be asked what impression it 
 would be likely to produce upon him. Himself 
 accustomed to worship his rudely carved deities, or 
 figures designed to represent the human form, with 
 the priests ministering around the figure of the 
 Virgin, with the people upon their knees near 
 at hand, attention evident amongst all, devotion 
 
A PARALLEL. 129 
 
 in every eye, is it unlikely that he would regard it 
 as a kindred religion ? imputing the perfection of 
 the figure, to which all seemed to pay homage, to 
 improvement in the arts, and to the skill, of which 
 he had numberless evidences around him, of the 
 inhabitants of the country. Could it be inferred, 
 or is it at all probable, that this ceremony of a 
 Christian church would be likely to raise correct 
 ideas in this person's mind, or approaching cor- 
 rectness, concerning the nature of that religion 
 which has Christ for its author ? Would he be at 
 all surprised with its novelty, or bear away any 
 impressions of its spirituality and purity ? 
 
 In arguing thus, I am far from imputing idol 
 worship to the multitude ; but where the distinc- 
 tions are so slight between worship and relative 
 worship, it may safely be inferred that the practice 
 is dangerous. If an untutored stranger, unac- 
 quainted with these rites, would recognise in them, 
 apparently at least, a similarity to a certain extent 
 with his own, — if sensible images are exposed to 
 reverential gaze in both cases, — the tendency is of 
 such a nature as to compromise the spirit of Chris- 
 tianity. The latter religion cannot hold any rite 
 or doctrine in common with the former system. 
 It is impossible they can kneel in the same temple. 
 
 65 
 
130 ORIGIN OF 
 
 They reciprocally forfeit each other's character, 
 when one enters the confines of the other. Here 
 is a true antagonism; and what is evidently false 
 in heathenism cannot lose its character by being 
 transplanted into an atmosphere of truth. 
 
 Perhaps the only rational account of the origin 
 of the procession is to be looked for in national 
 habits. Growing from age to age, they become 
 part of a people's nature, and are less easily eradi- 
 cated than diverted into a new channel. This 
 has been the case here. Through those very 
 streets where the Virgin and the saints are borne 
 upon seasons of festival, in the palmy days of old 
 Rome upon the "fasti" or at stated intervals, 
 Bacchus, Jupiter, and Venus, or their household 
 gods, were carried in solemn procession, attended 
 by priests and followed by thousands of the people. 
 Middleton mentions a pagan procession from Apu- 
 leius, which is not unlike a description of the 
 present one.* 
 
 " Mutato nomine de te fabula narratur." 
 
 * " Antistites sacrorum candide linteamine — ad usque vestigia 
 strictim injecti. Deum proferebant insignes exuvias, quorum pri- 
 mus lucernam prsemicantem claro porrigebat lumine, &c. Eas amoenus 
 lectissimae juventutis, veste nivea praenitens sequebatur chorus, car- 
 men venustum iterantes. Magnus praeterea sexus utriusque numerus, 
 Jucernis, taedis, cereis." — Apuleius, quoted in Matthews' " Diary." 
 
 
THE PROCESSION. 131 
 
 He speaks of their bearing forward the god, and 
 tells us that a large number of persons of either 
 sex followed with lamps and torches of wax, that 
 they were distinguished by white garments, and 
 that a graceful hymn was sung. 
 
 The modern custom of averting plague or dis- 
 aster, by carrying the body of the tutelary saint 
 through the city, has its undeniable prototype in 
 the gods accustomed to be borne along when dan- 
 ger or defeat threatened the old commonwealth. 
 The procession of the host is of common occur- 
 rence, and is a much more unpretending ceremony. 
 When a person is dangerously ill the priest is sent 
 for, who carries, with much state, the consecrated 
 host to the house of the sick. A procession is 
 formed, headed by one or more priests and several 
 of the attendants of the Church, all clad in their 
 officiating dresses. A few pious individuals gene- 
 rally join the solemn train. One of their number 
 goes a short distance before with a bell, which he 
 rings occasionally to announce the approach of the 
 host. All within sound of this fall upon their 
 knees, and remain uncovered until the priest and 
 his attendants have passed on. This is a natural 
 result of the belief in transubstantiation. Consi- 
 dering that the priest holds in his hands the real 
 
132 PROCESSION OF THE HOST. 
 
 presence, an act of homage and adoration is only 
 what is natural, and to be expected. 
 
 But to this custom not unjustly may be attri- 
 buted the careless and unrepentant lives of the 
 Italians. The best of their days — the morning of 
 life — is dedicated to pleasure; and while they follow 
 the shadow, they renounce the substance of reli- 
 gion. A few words of contrition, and the receiving 
 this sacrament, joined to the absolution of the 
 priest, is reckoned as a passport to paradise. So 
 clear is this that many, perhaps the majority, lead 
 the life of a Nero, and look forward to have the 
 black catalogue of years wiped away, like a Con- 
 stantine, by an imposing, but momentary, rite. 
 
PAINTINGS. 133 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 PAINTINGS. SUBJECTS CHIEFLY SACRED. ST. ANTHONY PREACHING 
 
 TO THE FISHES. — PICTURE OF ST. DENIS. THE SISTINE CHAPEL. 
 
 — THE LAST JUDGMENT. — THE MISERERE. 
 
 The paintings in the Roman galleries have been 
 often described. These collections abound with 
 pieces of the most surpassing beauty, presenting 
 nature under its various forms, such as it was 
 never represented in any other country. The eye 
 enjoys the exquisite feast; and in after years, when 
 we are at home in our northern clime, the memory 
 loves to recal and dwell upon the pleasure. 
 
 The arts are the last anchor of Italy. She has 
 been shattered by the tempests of time, but the 
 wreck that she has been left has been caused by 
 the impotence, as well as the superstition, of her 
 sons. Her muscular arm has become nerveless, 
 and her masculine spirit has passed away under the 
 domination of the Church. But bad government 
 and wretched institutions could not divest the 
 
134 SUBJECTS CHIEFLY RELIGIOUS. 
 
 Roman character of its excellence. Although the 
 old road to fame was denied them, they are still 
 first in that department to which the circumstances 
 that surround them have inclined the bent of their 
 genius. The only laurels that were left them they 
 suffer no brows to wear but their own. 
 
 It is a pity that the painters have left us, with 
 very few exceptions, religious subjects, and did not 
 embody upon the canvas some of the glorious deeds 
 of their great ancestors. Apocryphal subjects are 
 to be found without number, but acts written upon 
 their history's page have remained untouched under 
 the custody of a Livy or a Caesar. Monks in their 
 sable costume, and saints undergoing the pains of 
 martyrdom, are the usual products of their pencil. 
 But they have not given us the eloquent head 
 of Cicero, the dignified Cato, or the heroic con- 
 queror of Carthage. To be sure the fault lies with 
 the monastery and the priest. Such pieces as 
 these would no doubt have been deemed heretical, 
 and no excellence of finish or design could have 
 rescued them from ecclesiastical censure. The 
 painters painted for the taste of the times. The 
 abbot or the prelate suggested the subject, and left 
 the artist to imagine a St. Anthony or a St. Lau- 
 rence. The Flemish school, not having been re- 
 
 
SUBJECTS CHIEFLY RELIGIOUS. 1S5 
 
 strained by these rules, have left us many historical 
 pictures, which prove their own taste, and have 
 paved their renown. The Scripture history of 
 course furnishes magnificent subjects. These, in 
 many instances, have supplied noble examples, 
 which are found in some oils and frescoes ; but the 
 saint was more in favour both with priest and 
 people. # 
 
 The churches contained originally the best paint- 
 ings. The "Transfiguration," now in the Vatican, 
 was an altar-piece. They have been, by degrees, 
 purchased for private collections, or are to be found 
 in either of the national museums, while their places 
 were supplied by some less valuable pictures. 
 
 Paintings of the Virgin are the most numerous, 
 and the crucifixion of course also occupies a pro- 
 minent place. But it is extraordinary that the 
 painter should adorn the sanctuary with some sub- 
 jects, which, one would think, are not calculated to 
 
 *- The favour in which such pieces are held still prevails. I 
 suggested to a clever artist to occupy himself with painting some 
 stirring scene from Roman history, drawing his attention to some re- 
 markable events of the times of the consuls and the Caesars. He 
 disregarded my representations, and mentioned a subject which had 
 occurred to him, about which he was in raptures. This was St. 
 Laurence at his martyrdom. What a fine subject, he remarked, for 
 painting ! — what scope for imagination ! Now St. Laurence was 
 roasted. He obviously alluded to his gestures upon the gridiron ! 
 
1 36 ST. ANTHONY J 
 
 kindle devotion. I saw in a church near the Corso, 
 called the Chiesa del Gesu, belonging to the Jesuits, 
 an exceedingly well-executed painting of St. An- 
 thony preaching to the fishes. I am sure it was for 
 the moral the piece suggested that it obtained a 
 place upon the sacred walls ; not that the painter 
 or the priest imagined that St. Anthony actually 
 enlarged upon a text of Scripture, and spoke an 
 impassioned appeal to the inhabitants of the briny 
 deep. He had long spoken to men in vain ; he 
 took this course to shame them into Christians. 
 Be it as it may, St. Anthony stands upon the shore, 
 while the sea breaks gently at his feet, each 
 wave bringing a new shoal to his scaly congrega- 
 tion. His hands are stretched forth, and he has 
 all the marks of a genuine and sincere advocate. 
 
 When Alexander arrived at the sea, he wept that 
 the boundaries of conquest had so soon arrived ; 
 not so St. Anthony ; more ambitious, he launches 
 his weapons of persuasion against the hordes of 
 the world of waters, prisoning them by his argu- 
 ments, and thus left the hero of antiquity in the 
 shade. 
 
 Among the fish you can observe several sorts and 
 species. The cod approaches with a beard like 
 another capuchin, and plashes its neighbour to ob- 
 
PREACHING TO THE FISHES. 137 
 
 tain a nearer view of the holy man. The gurnet 
 elevates its hard head, with its eyes fixed full upon 
 the saint's visage ; its character is easily known 
 from the genuine brownish red which proclaims its 
 identity. The salmon, with its silver scales, skims 
 along the surface, and by the splutter that it makes 
 seems to have had a sort of pharisaical devotion — 
 a theatrical display to catch the eye of the preacher. 
 Flat fish there are none. Probably turbot or sole 
 would have discomposed St. Anthony ; the specta- 
 tors, too, might have supplied this deficiency. The 
 larger " sea-beasts," whales, or seals, have pursued 
 their usual career in the ocean, but the smaller fry 
 are innumerable. 
 
 Or it may be an allegory, for which we do not 
 give the painter and his patron sufficient credit. 
 Indeed it must be so, as St. Anthony must have 
 known that water is a non-conductor of sound, and 
 that fishes do not hear. It represents, then, the 
 different classes of hearers — the conduct of the 
 converts of his times. 
 
 The cod may be taken as the type of sincerity ; 
 its whole look and demeanour bespeak this. The 
 gurnet is also the mark of a class. But I think 
 the artist or the abbot would have us believe that 
 the preacher could have but little effect there also, 
 
138 PICTURE OF 
 
 its bony cranium resisting all his words; like many 
 who listen to a sermon, and do not suffer the words 
 to penetrate within. The salmon, it is obvious, 
 indicates coxcombs ; those who dress gaudily, and 
 carry their worldly airs into the temples. The 
 flat fish, deaf to his calls, manifestly points out 
 men whom the cares or the pleasures of the world 
 keep out of sight at the bottom. Again, observe 
 the skill displayed. There are no eels listening; 
 such slippery, tortuous persons hardly ever attend 
 a sermon. Whales are absent at their usual avoca- 
 tions ; such great sinners then, as now, no doubt, 
 gave little heed to ministers. Viewed in this light, 
 we may discover in this picture penetration and 
 knowledge of human nature rarely equalled. 
 
 Near the Piazza Farnese, and nearly opposite 
 the Collegio Inglese, stands a small church, which, 
 though its ornaments are plain and unpretending, 
 yet possesses some that are not a little singular. 
 Over one of the altars hangs a large painting, 
 which, by the freshness of the colouring, seems to 
 be but of recent date. The subject is curious, and 
 is sure to attract the observer, from perhaps more 
 valuable pictures in its neighbourhood. It is a 
 saint, who wears the dress of a prelate; but, extra- 
 ordinary to relate, he has no head, at least upon his 
 
ST. DENIS. 139 
 
 shoulders. This, it would seem unnecessary piece 
 of lumber, he carries in his hand. He steps as 
 leisurely, and walks as erect, as if his former eyes 
 directed him. But with the head, wrongly it would 
 seem, called " the palace of the soul," all anima- 
 tion and activity have passed away. The eyes are 
 closed, the cheeks pale, the lips set, the hair hang- 
 ing languidly and loosely, making the whole ap- 
 pearance ghastly enough. It evidently hopes and 
 fears no more. Reason, I must conclude, resides 
 in the trunk. The head its owner carries in a 
 manner very similar to a mother bearing her babe, 
 and it is just as likely that the former should drop 
 his charge as the latter. From this it would seem 
 that the painting represents St. Denis after his 
 martyrdom, who, the Romish legend tells us, after 
 decapitation, took up his head and walked to a 
 considerable distance. At the place where he lay 
 down a church was founded to his honour. I 
 fruitlessly endeavoured to explain this picture like 
 the former, but in vain ; none of my suggestions 
 were at all available. We must therefore take the 
 picture as it is, a record of a naked fact. 
 
 We know that such things are detailed in the 
 legends of the Church, but it was more than I 
 expected to find some of the most extravagant 
 
140 THE SISTINE CHAPEL. 
 
 rescued from the shelter of a learned language, 
 and held up as a means to increase the reverence 
 of the multitude. The nineteenth century with 
 all its light finds such things renovated and re- 
 stored ; and the mixture of truth and error, fidelity 
 and falsehood, to be found within the walls of the 
 Eternal City, is, perhaps, the only institution which 
 preserved its darkness and deformity through 
 enlightened times, without receiving any of its 
 salutary influences. 
 
 Although a party-wall only divides the palace of 
 the Vatican from St. Peter's, and the Pope might 
 without inconvenience avail himself of it for his 
 devotions, we find under the roof of the former 
 the private chapel of the Popes. This building 
 is but of small extent, not being larger than one 
 of our ordinary churches, and, what is extra- 
 ordinary, scarcely more adorned. It is hard to 
 think that the same mind that planned and finished 
 St. Peter's directed also all the details of this 
 simple edifice. Yet the fact is so. Michael 
 Angelo was the presiding genius in this as well as 
 the more gorgeous temple. But, although orna- 
 ment is absolutely away, no marble pillars or 
 massive monuments, nothing great in architecture 
 or novel in design, yet in another way he has en- 
 
THE SISTINE CHAPEL. 141 
 
 riched it, and made it justly celebrated, namely, 
 by the magnificent frescoes he has painted upon 
 the walls. 
 
 The figure of the church is a parallelogram. It 
 is entered by a fine lobby at the head of the Scalae 
 Sanctae, the walls of which have some well-finished 
 paintings, mostly representing the defeats which 
 the Crescent sustained from the Cross. The 
 greater part of the church, about two-thirds, is for 
 the accommodation of the cardinals, plain benches 
 covered with red baize extending around the walls; 
 the remaining part is left for the public. During 
 the Holy Week, when this church is particularly 
 interesting, this space is crowded, and it requires 
 punctuality to obtain admittance. It is not ca- 
 pable of containing more than three hundred. One 
 half is assigned to the fair sex, while gentlemen 
 group as they may in the latter. 
 
 There is no ornament whatever; the walls are 
 perfectly bare; but Michael Angelo's pencil has 
 inscribed upon them objects of greater interest and 
 value. Upon the lower part of the church, occu- 
 pying the entire wall, is painted in fresco the cele- 
 brated " Last Judgment." Upon both side walls 
 tapestry and drapery are represented; and upon 
 the tier above, the worthies of the 0}d Testament 
 
142 THE 
 
 and the prophets are delineated by the same master- 
 hand. 
 
 My impression of the " Last Judgment 1 ' is that 
 it richly deserved the praises which were lavishly 
 bestowed upon it, but damp and time have made 
 their inroads, and, added to these, want of care has 
 told on this perishable mode of painting. The 
 colours have become faded, and almost every figure 
 in the original has lost considerably its freshness 
 and effect It is a "wreck," and seems to be 
 no longer valued by the Pontiff, for an altar 
 with a canopy has been erected against one part 
 of it. 
 
 Every one, the travelled and the untravelled, is 
 acquainted with the " Last Judgment," so that it is 
 not necessary to say much concerning it It repre- 
 sents our Saviour in the act of pronouncing judg- 
 ment upon men, being risen from the dead — to 
 those on his left, perdition ; to those on his right, 
 paradise. The figure of the Saviour is noble, full 
 of dignity and power, but has none of the sweet- 
 ness and benignity that Corregio and Carlo Dolci 
 have given it. The figures and features of the 
 condemned are strongly expressive of dismay and 
 despair, while some of the other persons are calm 
 and indicate no fear. There are demons intro- 
 
THE "MISERERE." 143 
 
 duced, waiting to do their office. And the blue 
 unearthly look of the element in which all the 
 bodies* are enveloped, fading into darkness pal- 
 pable, as they rise from, or sink into the abyss, 
 conveys to the mind a just notion of what the 
 painter had in view. Such a subject no one could, 
 or would, attempt except a Michael Angelo. 
 
 At the right, and slightly elevated, there is a 
 small gallery for the Pope's choir. The number 
 of musicians that form it are few, but recherche 
 in their art, the very best voices that Italy can 
 afford. 
 
 Upon three days during "the santa settemancT 
 the Miserere is sung here, and all the forestieri 
 repair to hear it. As but a limited number can 
 attend, it is laughable to see the earnestness dis- 
 played to secure a place. Long before the ap- 
 pointed hour, three o'clock of French time, crowds 
 
 * The figures, as originally painted by Michael Angelo, were 
 naked. This gave grave offence to one of the cardinals, who used 
 his influence with the Pope to have them clothed, which was 
 eventually done, although against the remonstrances of the great 
 painter. The latter had his revenge. He took an accurate likeness 
 of the cardinal, and placed him in the piece amongst the damned. 
 The cardinal complained, but the Pontiff, a man of taste, assured 
 him that he would serve him if he could, but that his power did not 
 extend so far. 
 
H4 THE 
 
 of the elite of England and France stand with all 
 imaginable patience on the Scalae Sanctae, while a 
 file of the Papal grenadiers prevent for the time 
 further ingress. 
 
 Beautiful women and fashionable men, it may 
 be countesses and earls, stand side by side with 
 priests and commoners, in one crowd with artists 
 and invalids. 
 
 At length, the cardinals being seated, the doors 
 are opened, and all rush forward in a general melee. 
 Distinctions are lost and politeness postponed, 
 the gentle sex shewing a vigour and spirit for which 
 they commonly do not receive credit. Sometimes 
 the Swiss guard is overset, and for some moments 
 there is no little confusion. The ladies sit on the 
 benches on the right, shrouding as usual their 
 loveliness in veils, exhibiting nothing to the car- 
 dinals, but, perhaps, that most formidable feature, 
 the eyes. The ambassadors' " boxes," shall I call 
 them, are always well filled, whose uniforms and 
 orders engage attention, and thus serve to occupy 
 the time until the service begins. 
 
 The windows are closed and the church lighted 
 with candles. Within the chancel is placed a sort 
 of chandelier, with but two sides. It is of a 
 pyramidal shape, on either side of which are placed 
 
^ OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF . 
 
 THE MISERERE. 145 
 
 seven candles. This we shall find a significant 
 instrument as we go along. 
 
 The Supreme Pontiff* enters and is led to an 
 elevated chair. He looked older and more infirm 
 than usual ; but the dim light, or the distance, 
 made his cheek appear paler, as it threw its 
 shadows strongly on the furrows of time. His 
 spirits, however, appeared as usual, and his eye 
 vivid as before. 
 
 Though the service is called " The Miserere," the 
 fifty-first Psalm, commencing with the deeply 
 solemn words, " Miserere me, Dominus Dens" is 
 but a very small part of it. It occupies quite two 
 hours : no priest or prelate took part, it was alto- 
 gether chanted by the members of the choir. The 
 words were throughout Latin, and embraced the 
 prayers for the occasion, the Epistle and Gos- 
 pel, together with the Psalms. 
 
 The singing was indeed magnificent. Some- 
 times all the voices were blended in unison, con- 
 veying to the ear a volume of sweet sounds, so 
 beautiful, that, were I the best Catholic in the 
 world, my admiration would have paralysed my 
 devotion. Sometimes the deep bass of the singers 
 came with thrilling effect; and at others, the clear 
 
 * Gregory XVI. 
 
 H 
 
146 THE MISERERE. 
 
 and glassy tones of a single individual broke upon 
 the stillness of the scene, like a spirit communing 
 with our souls, conveying a message of mercy, or 
 calling us to Heaven. 
 
 The deeply melancholy and self-abasing words 
 of the Miserere, pleading for the sinner, and only 
 claiming the heavenly attribute of mercy, were 
 given with that taste and judgment which we might 
 expect to find in the Pope's choir, and with a 
 feeling that appealed to every heart, and accorded 
 well with the present occasion, the day upon which 
 the Saviour suffered — Good Friday. It was for 
 this event that the whole service was sung. It 
 was made, as it were, a service of sorrow, de- 
 ploring the great event that had happened, and 
 craving forgiveness for its cause — sin. 
 
 The whole ceremony is simple and touching. 
 Throughout all is silent save the voices of the 
 singers, which occasionally send forth their stream 
 of harmony — like music heard in the night. At 
 various but regular intervals during the service, a 
 candle at either side of the chandelier was extin- 
 guished, till at last all were put out, leaving the 
 place in stillness and obscurity. This is meant 
 to represent the darkness at our Saviour's death. 
 Just at this moment the choir unite all their 
 
THE MISERERE. 147 
 
 efforts, and the Miserere itself is sung. There 
 was a solemnity, if not sublimity in the effect, not 
 easily banished from the mind. No instrument 
 of music broke upon the ear, but it was the human 
 voice only, with tones of softer harmony and deeper 
 melody, alternately pleading or lamenting. But 
 finished and imposing in a high degree as was 
 the whole service, we were listening throughout 
 to an opera. Every one came, not for devotion, 
 but to hear and admire. Effect was the great 
 object aimed at. It had even the characters of 
 the drama ; the darkness with which the close was 
 invested was theatrical and tragic. But, notwith- 
 standing, it is the most excusable of the ceremonies 
 of the Holy Week, and which leaves a more fa- 
 vourable impression than perhaps any other of the 
 Roman ritual. 
 
 The Miserere is sung upon three different days * 
 of the Holy Week, of which the service on the 
 last two is reckoned the best. The late Pope did 
 not often attend, as the long sitting was too much 
 for his increasing years and infirmities ; but the 
 entire body of the cardinals are usually present, 
 together with their chaplains. In this chapel, at 
 least on this occasion, there was none of that salu- 
 
 * On Giovedi, Venerdi, and Sabbato. 
 
 h2 
 
148 THE MISERERE. 
 
 tation which we found to occupy so much time 
 in St. Peter's. Their eminences at once turned 
 to their books, and gave every attention to the 
 service. Lambruschini was near me, and he 
 seemed sincere and devout. At its conclusion the 
 capellane twisted the trains of the cardinals with 
 great rapidity. All quickly departed, and the 
 Sistine Chapel and Michael Angelo's frescoes were 
 wrapped in obscurity and silence. 
 
CEREMONIES OF HOLY WEEK. 149 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ADORAZIONE DELLA VERA CROCE. — THE SPEAR. — THE NAILS. — 
 
 THE CRUCIFIXION. — THE SUDARIO. STATE OF RELIGION AT 
 
 ROME. HER PROSPECTS. ADORATION OF RELICS. RELICS, IN- 
 DIAN AND EGYPTIAN. — ABSURDITY OF THE PRACTICE. 
 
 After the lapse of about half an hour, another 
 ceremony, and of a more questionable character, 
 takes place in St. Peter's. I had only heard of it 
 in the morning, but I was resolved that I would 
 see, if possible, the worshiping of the True Cross. 
 Upon entering St. Peter's I observed two rows of 
 small reading-desks, opposite which were cushions 
 placed upon the ground: more advanced, and in 
 front of the great altar, stood one by itself, as I 
 saw afterwards, for the Pope himself. But few 
 persons had assembled. I observed a few priests 
 and several Italians, but the greater part of the 
 English had gone to their homes. 
 
 It is said that the Church authorities would 
 just as soon that this rite should not be witnessed 
 
150 ADORATION OF THE 
 
 by heretical strangers, although there is no prohibi- 
 tion whatever. Indeed, the observance is so foreign 
 from Christian worship that I do not wonder at it; 
 for it affords a weapon which may with such ease 
 be wielded against them, that they do well to prac- 
 tise it at the approach of night. 
 
 It suits well, however, with matters as they are 
 at Rome, and amongst professing Catholics it is 
 a rite the very highest of its order. To have wor- 
 shiped the True Cross but once is reckoned as a 
 great privilege ; and to obtain a sight of the other 
 sacred relics that are at the same time exhibited 
 is considered to have the happiest effect upon the 
 individual. 
 
 After some delay, the door that leads to the 
 church from the Pope's apartments opened, and a 
 Papal procession made its appearance; 6i sed quan- 
 tum mutatus ah illo!" — shorn of all the splendour 
 which is associated with it on these occasions. The 
 mitres were all laid aside, in place of which they 
 bore their usual small caps; and the glowing 
 scarlet robe was exchanged for one of a pale pur- 
 ple dye, which is the mourning of the Pope and 
 cardinals. The Supreme Pontiff led the way, fol- 
 lowed by two rows of cardinals and their chap- 
 lains. With downcast eyes, and in solemn silence, 
 
TRUE CROSS. 151 
 
 they walked up the great aisle, and took their 
 places at the desks, all falling upon their knees. 
 Upon each desk was a paper containing several 
 prayers, suited, of course, to the occasion. It 
 would be curious to see in what manner the 
 relics are addressed, but to those "that are 
 without" they are of course sealed books. 
 
 As soon as the Pope had rested himself, a lofty 
 gallery, or rather balcony, to the left of the altar, 
 and under the dome, was entered by two priests, 
 arrayed in the richest vestments, a strong light 
 also being concentrated upon the place. This 
 leads from the apartment where these precious 
 relics are deposited, and to these priests is assigned 
 their care. 
 
 The priest who first appeared exposed the wood 
 of the True Cross, — " lignea di Vera Croce" — for 
 veneration. The distance was very considerable, 
 and it was impossible to form an accurate idea of it, 
 and it was also enclosed in a case. There is not 
 much of the wood, — that would be impossible, as 
 nearly every country lays claim to a considerable 
 share. The Romanist asserts that there can be no 
 doubt as to its identity ; that the Empress Helena 
 herself brought it to Rome, and that it has con- 
 tinued in the custody of the Popes ever since. 
 
152 THE SPEAR. 
 
 It was wonderful to observe the veneration that 
 was paid it. The head and the princes of the Church 
 could not, apparently, have been penetrated with 
 a deeper awe had they bent before the Saviour 
 Himself. They fell down and knelt to the wood. 
 Whether any other object, higher and holier, was 
 in their thoughts at the time, I cannot take upon 
 me to determine ; but unquestionably at this con- 
 clusion we must arrive with regard to the crowd 
 of uneducated persons that thronged the aisle. 
 
 After a few minutes the priest again appeared, 
 and the relic that he exhibited for adoration was 
 the spear with which our Saviour's side was pierced 
 at his crucifixion. It could have been the head 
 only, as the object was small. Strange, if after so 
 many centuries time has spared aught of this 
 memorable weapon ! Stranger still, when He suf- 
 fered death at the hands of his enemies, and his 
 friends "all forsook Him and fled," that the Church 
 should have been able to possess itself of this 
 actual spear! The thing is impossible. But of 
 course there are legends enough to account for it, 
 detailing its preservation or presentation to 'the 
 Bishop of Rome, which are never questioned or 
 examined by any member of the Church. 
 
 After due time the spear disappeared, and the 
 
THE NAILS. 153 
 
 guardian of the relics exposed another precious 
 charge. These were some of the nails which sus- 
 pended our Saviour to the Cross ! It was impossible 
 not to feel some degree of awe even, in the pre- 
 sence of these supposititious relics. Anything con- 
 nected with the name and history of that Almighty 
 Being who consented to die for our sakes natu- 
 rally impresses the imagination, which the time and 
 place were calculated to heighten. But this feeling 
 soon gives way to a feeling of sober and solid pity 
 for men, who so far frustrate the design of the 
 religion He brought into the world, as to convert 
 its chief article into a nullity, and raise the atoms 
 of perishable matter to almost an equality in 
 worship and honour with Him who is the chief 
 corner-stone. 
 
 Were these the very nails that had their part in 
 the crucifixion ? Did the Roman soldiers, who, at 
 best, thought Christianity but a " pernicious super- 
 stition," instead of casting them aside, carefully 
 preserve them? And are they so long exempted 
 from rust and decay ? For what purpose ? Can 
 they see or hear, appreciate the honour bestowed 
 upon them, or aught avail the worshiper ? Were 
 these the actual instruments of death, and 
 only kept as evidences of the guilt and enor- 
 
154 THE SUDARIO. 
 
 mity of man, it were another matter. But when 
 
 the head of the Catholic Church and the assembled 
 
 prelates did them worship and homage, the heart 
 
 sighs to find that truth meets such mighty obstacles 
 
 in its progress. We blame the Cingalese for 
 
 worshiping the tooth of Buddah ; we say that they 
 
 are buried in ignorance, and unhesitatingly call 
 
 it idolatry. Are the distinctions very great here ? 
 
 The Romanist should look carefully, lest what 
 
 will excuse the former will not justify the latter. 
 
 The last object brought in from the depository 
 
 of the relics was the Sudario, or towel with which 
 
 our Saviour wiped his face at his Passion. This 
 
 is in a precious case, and enclosed in glass. Upon 
 
 the Sudario remains the impression of the Saviour's 
 
 features. The traces of a face are distinctly visible. 
 
 What a delusion ! and how carefully kept up ! 
 
 Unless the matter be explained by a special 
 
 miracle — a miracle for no purpose — the thing is 
 
 frivolous and absurd. Would the delicate texture 
 
 of the Sudario receive the impression, or exist for 
 
 the thousandth part of the time ? It is hardly 
 
 possible to think that the Pope can be sincere, No 
 
 doubt this very relic is renewed, and fashioned in 
 
 the figure it bears. It must be so, and can it be 
 
 done without his knowledge ? Perhaps it may ba 
 
RELICS. 155 
 
 otherwise explained. Every one must rejoice to 
 hear that there is no alliance with deception. 
 
 It is very possible that relics, these among the 
 rest, will be the rock that the Church of Rome will 
 split upon. The vaunted infallibility will for awhile 
 direct it, as it has done, amidst the dangers ; but 
 before increased knowledge, and in more enlight- 
 ened times, examination will spring up, reason un- 
 lock its rivets, and deceptioii vanish before truth. 
 
 The true plan to bring about these great ends 
 would be to allow the perusal of the Scriptures. 
 To this the Church of Rome will never assent ; self- 
 preservation is the first law of nature. In them it 
 would be suicidal. At the present moment it is 
 almost impossible to bring a copy of the Bible into 
 Italy. At all the custom-houses the books of the 
 traveller are examined ; and at the frontier dogana, 
 if the prohibited book is found, it will be retained 
 for him until his return. 
 
 The Bible is forbidden to be read, and every 
 other work capable of giving right notions upon 
 religious truth has a prominent place in the " Index 
 Expurgatorius" which is revised yearly by a congre- 
 gation presided over by a cardinal. Improvement 
 will only begin when the people shall assert their 
 undoubted right to read and judge for themselves. 
 
156 STATE OF 
 
 Reformation will, in truth, commence when they 
 cease to see with other eyes, hear with other ears 
 than their own; when they stand forth in the 
 proud position they were designed to occupy, as 
 reasoning creatures, by their Maker ; and not, as 
 they now do, allow one mind to think, act, and 
 decide for them. 
 
 It is very possible these events may take place. 
 The age is ripe for this already, and the States of 
 the Church have frequently given indications that 
 they are dissatisfied with Pontifical Government. 
 Their present wise and enlightened ruler may in- 
 deed obviate much of this feeling. They have had, 
 no doubt, much to complain of. Trial by jury is 
 not to be found at Rome, and but little of personal 
 right. The Church is independent of the laws. 
 Altogether the system is ready for change. Pro- 
 bably the end of this century may find the Pope 
 occupying his original position as bishop of the 
 district of Rome, and its worship purified by a 
 movement arising within its own bosom. 
 
 The adoration of the wood of the Cross by the 
 Pope proves what are the sentiments of the Church 
 of Rome in this matter, and the doctrines upon this 
 subject that it would inculcate. Plain it is, that 
 these sentiments have suffered no change. The same 
 
RELIGION AT ROME. 15 7 
 
 creature-worship, — the same respect to inanimate 
 beings, — which characterised the dark ages, subsist 
 in those of greater light, when knowledge has ad- 
 vanced with rapid footsteps, and science unravelled 
 many intricacies in things hitherto unknown. Rome 
 exhibits a curious spectacle : while the world has 
 advanced in the perception and the practice of 
 truth, she alone has retrograded. She stands like 
 a vessel moored on a leeward coast, having directed 
 her course by obsolete methods or by the stars, 
 while the pilot that grasps the helm looks upon 
 the compass that would guide her aright as an here- 
 tical discovery — as some instance of the black art. 
 But the clouds will burst upon her, and the storm 
 beset her path upon the ocean, when her strength 
 may probably be tried, and the cables found unable 
 to resist. 
 
 In fact, Rome as a nation exists more by the 
 sufferance of the European potentates than by any 
 power of her own. How long she may keep the 
 equilibrium in the balance of power, — though it be 
 a doubt now whether she could much influence the 
 scale, — it is hard to say; and we have had in- 
 stances to prove that a Protestant nation is not 
 requisite to give her the coup de grace. It seems, at 
 all events, to be clear that she takes no good way 
 
158 ADORATION OF RELICS 
 
 to prolong her existence, as a politico-religious 
 power, by maintaining practices equally opposed to 
 reason and foreign to truth. Such an unwise course 
 has not unfrequently been the prelude to the 
 destruction or the decay of empires. 
 
 ** Quern Deus vult perdere prius dementat." 
 
 In the face of these things it is a lamentable fact 
 that Christians, and clergymen, have been false to 
 their first love, and allured by the attractions of 
 Rome. In accepting the system that they main- 
 tain, they must accept it all ; and how can men of 
 studious or inquiring minds reconcile to themselves 
 the adoration of relics? The pure and undivided 
 worship of God once influenced them. If they are 
 good Catholics, they must share it now with his 
 creatures. What are its foundations in natural 
 religion ? None ; except what fear without reflec- 
 tion may suggest What are its proofs from re- 
 vealed ? Absolute and implied prohibitions. Moses, 
 going upon Mount Nebo, and dying there, by the 
 express command of God, the children of Israel 
 being ignorant of his sepulchre, seems to have 
 taken place for the very purpose lest they should 
 consider his remains sacred, and attach a religious 
 value to them. Joseph, if he deemed relics worth 
 
UNSUPPORTED BY SCRIPTURE. 159 
 
 a thought, would have bequeathed his own to his 
 race ; but he gave commands only concerning " his 
 bones" and burial. When Elisha held a piece 
 of Elijah's mantle as he mounted to heaven, it 
 would have been a desirable relic ; but it is never 
 afterwards mentioned. The contents of the ark — 
 the manna, &c. — were deposited, not for worship, 
 but to crush infidelity, and as incontestible evi- 
 dences of the goodness of God to them. 
 
 If a thought were to be bestowed on relics, if 
 their worship were to form a stone in the arch of 
 the Church which the Apostles founded, instances 
 or precepts upon the subject must be found in the 
 writings which they have left us, and their own con- 
 duct would of course be influenced by such a feeling. 
 But at John the Baptist's death, whose eulogium 
 our Saviour Himself pronounces, did they, who 
 must have valued it more than all others, divide 
 his body among themselves, as a treasure for the 
 future church ? The inspired account does not, I 
 think, favour such a supposition: "and his dis- 
 ciples came and buried it." When St. Stephen 
 was slain, who spake with such ardour and inspira- 
 tion, that " his face shone as an angel," was there 
 anxiety displayed by his followers to have a limb, 
 or an ear, or a nail — some of his blood, or some 
 
1 60 RELICS, 
 
 of his garments? Did the spirit which actuates 
 the Romanist actuate them? The Evangelist tells 
 us that nothing of the sort occurred, but that they 
 took him forth, lamented, and buried him. 
 
 At the death of the Saviour, when his disciples 
 imagined that it had destroyed their hopes, when 
 Joseph of Arimathaea came and begged of Pilate 
 his body, what was his purpose ? Was it that of 
 the Church of Rome— to preserve it as a relic? 
 Hear again the unerring monitor: "He took it, 
 and buried it in his own new tomb, hewn out of a 
 rock." Thus clear it is that such a worship never 
 entered the thoughts of the primitive Church, or 
 occupies a line of the apostolical writings. The 
 practice arose only when the source of truth 
 became polluted, and in obedience to the maxim, 
 since widely acted on, that man can facilitate or 
 improve the method of salvation pointed out by its 
 Divine Author. 
 
 It arose, also, from a spirit of rivalry. The 
 pagan systems had their images and relics, and 
 why, in the opinion of its patrons, should not the 
 Church of Rome have theirs? Such an opinion 
 prevails in most religions, except in that whose 
 origin is from above. The Mussulmans have their 
 stone of the Caaba and the tomb of the Prophet, 
 
INDIAN AND EGYPTIAN. 161 
 
 which receive the veneration of thousands of his 
 followers. The Buddhists have the tooth of their 
 founder. There are relics in the Brahminical 
 temples ; and recently, in Pompeii, several mum- 
 mies were found in the temple dedicated to the 
 Egyptian worship, which we may calculate to have 
 been the pontiffs of their service, who, no doubt, 
 had their votaries in abundance. The Indian 
 tribes of America have their amulets, which 
 are of the nature of relics. The imposing sys- 
 tem that existed in Egypt of old was chiefly 
 a relic-worship ; witness the host of ibis, scara- 
 bsei, and other sacred animals which have been 
 found. They are all alike the marks of a false 
 worship. The Supreme Being, who is the object 
 of adoration, is of a spiritual nature, and those 
 "helps of devotion,'* or whatever else they may 
 be called, only serve to make men more unlike 
 Him, and to degrade the impression that He leaves 
 upon every breast. 
 
 In the case of the Roman relics, how puerile to 
 think that they can benefit those who venerate 
 them ! When life is at an end, and Death seizes 
 on the body like a remorseless creditor, surely he 
 receives it deprived alike of volition and power. 
 His handmaids —corruption and the worm— are the 
 
162 ABSURDITY OF THE PRACTICE. 
 
 only emblems of authority there. The senses are 
 mute, the voice is still, the heart is cold. How do 
 the relics of St. Francis or St. Paul at all differ 
 from any of the fleshless occupants of the neigh- 
 bouring cemeteries? Can either hear or heed? 
 Do we require to be told that Death's cold ear is 
 as inaccessible to prayer as he is himself to pity ? 
 Then why keep and reverence them? Because 
 " all passes from the type to the prototype," per- 
 haps. But would such a worship to the bodies 
 they relinquished on earth be acceptable to St. 
 Paul or St. Francis? If they are influenced by 
 the same feeling as the angel in the Revelations, 
 which of course they are, in the possession of 
 bliss they would reject such approaches, and with 
 a similar answer. They would be rebels in the 
 courts of Heaven, if they could suffer it for a 
 minute. And yet this is the principle from which it 
 flows. They conceive that by paying attention to 
 the bodies of these holy men, they will be pleased 
 and intercede for them above ; whereas sensations 
 the very opposite must take place, as, the purer 
 and more spiritualised the mind, the more jealous 
 and disposed it is for the worship and service of 
 the one and only God. 
 
RELICS. 163 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 RELICS : OBSERVATIONS ON THEM CONTINUED. — ST. APOLLONIA. — 
 
 ST. STANISLAUS. PORTABLE RELIC. — SCALES SANCT.E: : REMARKS 
 
 CONCERNING. ST. RANIER1, PISA. SANTA CLARA. 
 
 Nearly every church in Rome has its peculiar 
 relics. They are the holy things which seem to give 
 a character to the edifice ; and are like the spirits 
 which were supposed to occupy the temples and 
 oracles of old, making every spot of ground sacred, 
 and inaccessible to the profane. Like them, too, 
 they are hid from view, lest they should lose in 
 public estimation by being too common, as we 
 conceive higher opinions of a face that is veiled 
 than of one uncovered and founded upon that 
 universal sentiment, well known in every age, that 
 objects of a sacred or mysterious character have 
 the notions that are entertained concerning them 
 cherished and increased by being seldom seen. 
 
 Every church is dedicated to some saint, who is 
 its patron, or, as the Italians write in each " sacred 
 
164 OBSERVATIONS ON 
 
 invitation " on the festival day, " nostra protettore f 
 but the relic is the saint present in the body, the 
 virtue of which alike preserves the building and 
 protects the congregation. If they were exposed 
 as mere emblems of mortality, perhaps the prac- 
 tice would be excusable ; preaching the sermon to 
 thoughtless minds of life's uncertainty, and point- 
 ing out death by its sad and undeniable records ; 
 warning men, while they glide on the stream of 
 pleasure, that time has its limits ; or, like the slave 
 in the victor's chariot of old, amid the spring of 
 life, sternly pointing out its winter and decay. 
 
 But a feeling the very reverse of this has 
 placed them on every altar at Rome. A virtue, 
 as it were, animates them, and if it does not give 
 life and motion to the shrivelled skeleton, it at 
 least invests it with the attribute of power. Their 
 efficacy is great in healing, or in exerting various 
 other influences. Formerly miracles were worked 
 by relics, and the practice, though not so common 
 at the present day, is by no means given up. At 
 Leghorn, within the last three years, during the 
 prevalence of continued dry weather, the entire 
 body of a saint was carried in procession, in hopes 
 that he would afford them plentiful showers. At 
 Milan, during the plague, St. Carlo Borromeo was 
 
RELICS. 165 
 
 also borne with great solemnity, with the hope 
 that he would be of use to them in abating the 
 pestilence.* 
 
 In the eyes of priests and people they are 
 equally valuable. It is said that in their troubles 
 or trials the latter will bend before the relic for 
 hours in silent meditation, waiting for the answer 
 to their wish, like the mother who demands of the 
 ocean her drowned child. I have myself seen 
 them rise from their knees after prolonged prayer, 
 and approaching reverently impress a kiss upon 
 the sarcophagus where the body is laid, deeming it 
 half profanation to touch it, and looking when it 
 was done as if they had achieved a triumph. 
 
 Where a valuable relic, the body of a saint for 
 instance, is exposed on the festa of the Church, 
 not unfrequently a priest sits in the immediate 
 neighbourhood, lest probably the too great zeal 
 
 * This, however, having taken place in the year 1629, is not a 
 very modern instance. " His body, enclosed in a crystal shrine, formed 
 the most precious treasure of the cathedral. The shrine was borne 
 through the streets, surrounded by the priesthood, the nobles, and the 
 magistrates, barefoot and in penitential dresses, and followed by a 
 multitude ; and for a moment all minds were abstracted from their own 
 and the common danger to gaze upon the mitred skull, visible through 
 its transparent covering, whose eyeless sockets and grinning jaws 
 might have seemed to mock the hopes so fondly and vainly enter- 
 tained." — Lib. Ent. Knowledge. Vide Ripamonte. 
 
166 OBSERVATIONS ON 
 
 of a votary might prompt him to pilfer ; or lest his 
 mode of address might not be consistent with that 
 mysterious respect which the mighty dead inspires. 
 I have seen this sacred watchman at Pisa, and I 
 was at first led to think that an excess of faith 
 induced him to keep his ward, lest, when the 
 marble where the saint slept had been removed, 
 he might make himself wings and flee away. 
 
 On these occasions of exposition how ghastly is 
 the spectacle, and, one would think, how little 
 likely to inspire devotion ! The skull with its 
 eyeless sockets looks grim and horrible, while the 
 brows are dark and damp with time. The slender 
 arms are extended, sinewy and shrivelled ; while the 
 fingers, long and lank, black as those of a mummy 
 from the pyramids, are clenching a crozier or a 
 cross. The ribs are bare, exhibiting the place 
 where the heart beat, like a ruined fountain in the 
 wilderness, or the altar of an old temple, desolate 
 and dismantled. The fleshless limbs are extended 
 and composed, having no traces of energy remain- 
 ing; and the whole frame has that aspect of languor, 
 as if it sighed for the tomb. It is but a relic 
 indeed — the relic of mortality, and the remnant 
 of the worms' feast ! We feel, as we gaze on the 
 cold and inanimate object, that we are in the 
 
RELICS. 167 
 
 charnel-house, and not in the church. How extra- 
 ordinary that man can be induced to reverence 
 decay — to worship the worm ! Th e beingswho 
 have been the objects of adoration in all ages are 
 invested with majesty and power; but here is 
 nothingness respected, and dust deified. 
 
 These eastern nations who prostrate them- 
 selves before the great luminaries, — the sun by 
 day, or the stars by night, the one the source of 
 light and life, the others twinkling in beauty and 
 power, — we can hardly imagine so corrupt and 
 culpable as this. It is not improbable that reason 
 unaided should prompt them to acknowledge the 
 benefits received from these magnificent objects, 
 and particularly in these climes where both shine 
 with increased splendour. 
 
 For the Greeks or Romans even, some plea 
 may be urged, as they bent before the fair pro- 
 portions of the human figure, consummately carved 
 in marble by the hand of a Phidias or Praxiteles : 
 their taste may have been carried to extremes, and 
 their admiration end in devotion, but even these 
 slender excuses cannot be urged for those who 
 on their knees pour forth their petitions, or place 
 their dependence upon the remains of the frail 
 form saved from the sepulchre or gleaned from the 
 grave-yard. 
 
168 ST. APOLLONIA. 
 
 Unquestionably they have much to answer for, 
 and their guilt is considerable, who can give the 
 people a head or an arm, a saint's skeleton or a 
 skull, instead of the great truths — simple but sub- 
 lime — of the religion the object of which was to 
 smooth the path of life and to save them for 
 the next. It is cheating the heart in the objects 
 that are most dear to it, and is, in the truest 
 sense, presenting them with a stone when they ask 
 for bread. 
 
 The church of Santa Maria en Trastevere * has 
 a goodly collection of relics. Among them is to 
 be found the head of St. Apollonia, who is the 
 patron-saint of those who suffer from "il malade 
 di dente" There is a fine painting of St. Apollonia 
 in the Corsini collection by Carlo Dolci; and a 
 sweeter face was never painted by the same master. 
 It is a favourite subject with the artists at Rome, 
 and many of them find their way into this country. 
 I should much prefer Carlo Dolci's head to that 
 which is laid up in the church, although the 
 former be valueless in the priests' eyes. The 
 features are Roman, beautifully rounded, and full 
 of expression ; the forehead fair and high, the 
 mouth small, the whole air voluptuous. But the 
 
 * Transtiberim, beyond the Tiber ; the west quarter of the city. 
 
ST. STANISLAUS. 169 
 
 chief feature are the eyes, soft as the evening star, 
 with more than its brightness. With all these 
 accomplishments Apollonia met with the fate of 
 martyrdom. I cannot assign the reason why those 
 afflicted with tooth-ache fly to her for succour. 
 If the picture is a fair representation of the 
 original, she would be more likely to give the 
 heart-ache, than cure any other. 
 
 A small church on the Quirinal Hill, or, as it is 
 now called, Monte di Cavallo, possesses the body of 
 St. Stanislaus, a noble Pole, who sacrificed and 
 suffered much for the Church. The body is con- 
 tained in a handsome marble sarcophagus, which 
 at the same time forms the altar of the church and 
 the' tomb of the saint. 
 
 In the various churches throughout the city 
 bodies and garments are reverently laid up. There 
 is scarcely one without its relic treasure. But the 
 basilicas of St. Peter's and St. John Lateran's 
 stand at the head of all others in this respect. St. 
 Peter himself is said to repose in the former, and 
 in the latter St. Paul is enclosed in a silver bust. 
 If all be true that is affirmed concerning relics, the 
 saints, I fear, would cease to be bipeds, or must 
 have been monsters such as we have no record of 
 now. Three or more legs, and as many arms as 
 
 i 
 
170 RELICS, WHENCE SUPPLIED. 
 
 Briareus, are often assigned to one individual; 
 and, what is of more moment, there is undoubted 
 evidence of their having two heads, one probably 
 possessed by a monastery at Rome, the duplicate 
 being in Austria or Northern Italy. If the fingers 
 or toes be put together, they will be far more than 
 nature ever gave to one man ; and the garments of 
 a single saint, to which sanctity is assigned, will 
 be found to exceed in number and variety the 
 wardrobe of the most extravagant gentleman of 
 our time. Nothing would be more useful than a 
 catalogue of relics in all Catholic countries, if in- 
 formation might be afforded to make it ; it would 
 soon appear that the " pious fraud " is continued 
 still, and is principally at work in relics. 
 
 Rome is the great emporium for relics. This cele- 
 brated city gives them their sanctity. There is either 
 an office or congregation where the value and virtue 
 of such things are assigned, but in most cases they 
 come from the Holy Father himself. To Catholic 
 princes they were the choicest presents; and prelates 
 or priests, visiting the capital of the Church, are 
 sure to bring away with them a case containing some 
 canonised bones. They are well paid for, and per- 
 haps it is the only traffic which is carried on with 
 real activity within the walls. So great has always 
 
A PORTABLE RELIC. l7l 
 
 been the demand, that the catacombs — the great 
 cemetery — are said to have been well nigh ex- 
 hausted. Once that they come from the genuine 
 channel, sealed and certified by infallibility, they 
 are never afterwards questioned. At the custom- 
 houses opposite the French coast no commodity 
 is found with more certainty in the portmanteau of 
 the travelled priest, than a limb or an arm of some 
 of the martyrs of Italy. It reminds me strongly 
 of some quacks, who have made easy fortunes by 
 the sale of medicines, advertised to cure all 
 diseases, but which in the end turned out to be 
 brick-dust, or some equally innocuous material. 
 
 I may mention here an incident that will be 
 hardly credited. The relic is sometimes ground 
 down (this application of a bone-mill is novel) 
 and made into a paste, of which small round cakes 
 are formed, bearing the impression of a cross, a 
 crosier, the head of an apostle, or the figure of a 
 lamb. This is carried about the person, and is 
 laid upon the table where he performs his matins 
 or vespers. It is, I believe, especially for the 
 priests, one of whom shewed a cake of this 
 nature to a friend of mine, and explained its 
 properties. I myself also subsequently had an 
 opportunity of seeing one. 
 
 i2 
 
172 8CAL2E sanctje. 
 
 I shall conclude this account of relics, already 
 too prolonged, with a description of one of the 
 most curious and interesting to be found at Rome — 
 the Scalae Sanctse at the small chapel near St. John 
 Lateran's. 
 
 The "holy stairs" are, say the Church chro- 
 nicles, the very stairs of Pilate's house at Jerusa- 
 lem, which our Saviour ascended as he went to 
 judgment. They were brought by miraculous 
 means to Rome.* These celebrated stairs have 
 been in their present position for centuries, and 
 are at the present day objects of as great venera- 
 tion as they were in bygone times. They are 
 composed of white marble, and consist of many 
 steps. The devout Roman Catholic must ascend 
 these steps, invested with so holy a character, only 
 upon his knees. I have seen numbers in this atti- 
 tude, male and female, patiently mounting their 
 way to the top. Thus to mount these hallowed 
 steps is the highest penitential act, for which 
 thousands traverse wide oceans and distant 
 kingdoms. 
 
 Lest the number of pilgrims frequenting the 
 
 * It is not quite clear whether they were brought miraculously, 
 like the Virgin's house at Loretto, or were brought hither by the less 
 ostentatious means of toil and labour. 
 
SCAL2E SANCTJE. 173 
 
 sacred fane should wear out the steps by the con- 
 stant attrition of their knees, they are covered 
 with wood, an open space having been left at every 
 step, through which the sacred marble can be 
 descried. Hard as the stone is, this was no doubt 
 absolutely necessary, pressed as they are from age 
 to age by so great a number ; but perhaps it had 
 looked more venerable if the traces of devotion 
 were indelibly stamped upon it. 
 
 1 did not think that the penitents, scaling the 
 ascent in their painful and uneasy position, afforded 
 either a religious or solemn spectacle. Some ple- 
 thoric individuals were warm with the exercise, 
 and a few modest ladies blushed deeply upon being 
 discovered at the task. When the top is gained, 
 the penance or service is concluded, as it would 
 be a perilous undertaking to descend in the 
 same manner. On either side there are common 
 stairs of wood, from which the devotee takes his 
 departure. 
 
 There is a box at the top, the usual accompani- 
 ment on all such occasions, which stands inviting 
 whatever offering the person may be disposed to 
 pay. At the completion of this exercise the per- 
 son rises from his knees, and in most cases pro- 
 ceeds to look through the key-hole of a bronze 
 
174 SCALJE SANCT.E. 
 
 door leading into a small-ante-chamber. Curiosity 
 induced me to perform this part of the ceremony. 
 Great sanctity is evidently attached to the spot. 
 Probably it represents a fac-simile of a room 
 in Pilate's house, as upon the walls are writ- 
 ten in large letters, " Non est in toto mundo locus 
 sanctior" 
 
 No doubt a certain awe would attach to 
 those things which had been touched by the 
 Saviour of the World ; but it remains to be 
 proved that they are meritorious to the individual, 
 and, still more, whether they are the identical 
 objects that had been pressed by his footsteps. 
 That it is a mere imposition, a deception practised 
 upon the multitude, no more question can exist 
 than that the light shines. 
 
 Jerusalem, in fulfilment of prophecy, under- 
 went the hard fate which was written in her stern 
 sentence. The Roman eagle hovered over her 
 walls, and the Roman soldier pillaged and profaned 
 the altars of her temples and her domestic hearths. 
 Vespasian and Titus so completely destroyed the 
 city, as literally not to "leave one stone upon 
 another." Houses, baths, and towers were involved 
 in one common ruin ; the fortifications were so 
 completely overthrown, that the plough was driven 
 
SCALjE SANCTiE. 175 
 
 over the site of Jerusalem. It long remained waste 
 and uninhabited — unoccupied by the unbeliever or 
 the Jew. Amid this heap of confusion, amid the 
 broken pillars, where the plan of the city and the 
 site of every edifice was lost, — and history tells us 
 how unsparing were the Romans in their pillage, 
 particularly where revenge and hatred were the 
 wild spirits that devastated the scene, — was it with- 
 in the bounds of possibility that a particular stone 
 or a certain structure could have been distinguish- 
 ed from the surrounding ruins, or have been pre- 
 served entire? Such a supposition will not stand 
 the test of examination for one minute. It is one 
 that is frivolous to entertain ; and the person that 
 can believe it, under such circumstances, would 
 admit any absurdity, no matter how gross. The 
 Scalae Sanctse were probably never twenty miles 
 from Rome, excavated from the neighbouring 
 quarries, and are the ingenious device of some 
 prudent Pope or wily cardinal, who considered the 
 finances an object as much deserving their atten- 
 tion as the promotion of the faith. 
 
 These relics, that have descended from ancient 
 times like heir-looms in the succession of the 
 Church, are probably the last things that would 
 afford matter for doubt or inquiry to the Romanist 
 
176 INQUIRY HOPELESS. 
 
 himself. Their origin is too remote, and the in- 
 vestigation attended with too much difficulty, for 
 him to engage in it. It is true, also, that those 
 things in religion which have antiquity upon their 
 side are invested with peculiar sanctity. Like the 
 ruins of an old abbey, — defaced, but honoured by 
 time, — they are imposing and impressive. They 
 are also mixed up with the character of his religion ; 
 and inquiry is at once checked, as he knows that if 
 discoveries were made, it would wound the system, 
 which is associated with his habits and thoughts in 
 the most vital part. Such a thought never enters 
 his mind, because he considers it sinful. For the 
 laity, therefore, to examine, and to be convinced, 
 is, I think, a forlorn hope. To wait for those who 
 profit by the delusion to preach a crusade against 
 such things, is more than can be expected from 
 human nature. Yet the time may come when in 
 this fruitful field a second Luther may reap me- 
 morable triumphs, and not inferior to his who has 
 a deathless name throughout Christendom. He 
 may find it, too, a more vulnerable part than that 
 which shrunk beneath the heroic arm of the Ger- 
 man monk. 
 
 The veneration of relics is not confined to Rome, 
 but is spread over all Italy ; in proof of which I 
 
ST. RANIERI. 177 
 
 shall mention two incidents which came under my 
 own notice at Pisa. 
 
 In the beautiful cathedral of that city, which has 
 so many objects to arrest the attention, none 
 of them is more striking than the sarcophagus 
 on the altar to the left of the great doorway, which 
 contains the body of St. RanierL Long ago he 
 had been a bishop of Pisa, and in the time of her 
 greatness and glory had administered the affairs of 
 her church. He is called in the "sagra invito." 
 " Nostra protettore" being thus the patron saint of 
 the city. To him, in times of difficulty, the devout 
 Pisan has recourse, and on occasions of danger, as 
 well as in the hours of sickness. When he recom- 
 mends himself to St. Ranieri he reckons all to be 
 secure. The festival of this saint takes place upon, 
 I think, the 4th of May. 
 
 The sarcophagus is marble, but the sides are 
 glass, so that you have a complete view of the slum- 
 bering saint.* The skeleton is entire, and after 
 the lapse of so many ages the saint has managed to 
 preserve himself very well. Flowers were strewed 
 over the bones, and upon the skull, raised upon a 
 
 * It was the festival day on which I visited the cathedral, and an 
 exposition of the relics then usually takes place, so that it is probable 
 the body is covered up at ordinary times. 
 
 i5 
 
178 CHURCH OF THE DOMINICANS. 
 
 cushion, was laid a chaplet of the same products of 
 nature, the sightless orbs being turned slightly 
 towards the multitude. The feet were cased in 
 gilt shoes, and his crosier lay beside him. 
 
 It seemed extraordinary to me how such an 
 exhibition could excite or command devotion ; but 
 it was evident that such was the case. Several 
 women were in the immediate neighbourhood tell- 
 ing their beads in solemnity and silence, with eyes 
 occasionally turned towards the potent saint — eyes 
 which plainly spoke the reliance and the faith they 
 reposed in him. They then concluded by impress- 
 ing a kiss upon the cold case which contained his 
 remains. 
 
 So valuable and holy are these relics esteemed, 
 that a priest sits in the immediate neighbourhood, 
 to see that no one injures them. It is possible the 
 treasury of the church is also benefited by his 
 presence. 
 
 You will find many of the Pisans called by the 
 name Ranieri, as we perpetuate Bible names, and 
 those of the apostles, particularly, are given to the 
 members of Christian families. In like manner, 
 the Pisans rank the name of their good bishop with 
 the older, Luke, Matthew, and Paul. 
 
 At the church of the Dominicans, Via del Car- 
 
SANTA CLARA. 179 
 
 mine, on the 3rd of May, is celebrated a festival 
 in honour of Santa Clara. As to her history, I 
 was not able to learn all the particulars, but she 
 had formerly been either a nun of some order, or 
 had ended her days by martyrdom. Her body was 
 now in possession of the brotherhood. On the day 
 in question the body was exposed in the centre 
 of the chapel. It was contained in a square box, 
 the top and sides of which were of glass, by which 
 a complete view of the contents was obtained. 
 The skeleton had fallen to pieces by time, and 
 both skull and bones were entirely detached ; but 
 they were again arranged with care, in a peculiar 
 order, according to the taste of the priest. The 
 thigh-bones, crossing each other, were tied together 
 with white silk ribbons ; the ribs, feet, and arms 
 were beneath, and over these relics of mortality was 
 placed the skull, in an attitude that presented its 
 sightless eyes towards the numerous congregation. 
 Upon the skull was placed a wreath of white and 
 red roses. It presented a curious union of ruin 
 and beauty — the wreck of the human form, and the 
 unrivalled sweetness of the flower ! 
 
 What was the reason of the garland ? perhaps to 
 represent the freshness of her memory, and the 
 fragrance of her name; but to me it told a different 
 
180 SANTA CLARA. 
 
 tale. How often have we seen, amid scenes of 
 gaiety, a fair forehead and raven hair adorned with 
 a similar garland, where the heart beats lightly, 
 and is unoppressed with thoughts of frailty or the 
 future. A few years have passed away, and she is 
 gone to her bed of death. It brought the two 
 scenes together, as it were, or the one that was before 
 me seemed to mock that which was past. It told 
 me strongly and sternly of the fate that awaits us, 
 and seemed to mock the objects we love and the 
 enjoyments we took delight in. I was hurried 
 from contemplating the form in the halls of plea- 
 sure to look upon it here, with its garland of roses, 
 but upon a brow deprived of all flesh and beauty. 
 As if to check my admiration, and to remind me of 
 instability, the monitor before me said, " Look upon 
 me now." 
 
 Santa Clara remained exposed to the worship 
 and reverence of the multitude, and during the day 
 numbers knelt at her shrine and paid their annual 
 offerings. At six o'clock four priests entered the 
 church, and stood at the four corners of the plat- 
 form, and as they approached' they bent the knee 
 and made humble obeisance to Santa Clara. Their 
 motives seemed to arise from the notion that they 
 were in the presence of a being who could either 
 
SANTA CLARA. 181 
 
 reward or punish them, and was capable of fully 
 appreciating their acts. They then turned their 
 faces towards her, and commenced a service in her 
 honour, chanting throughout. The organ gave 
 forth its thrilling peals, and the voice of the priest 
 joined in unison, invocating the assistance upon 
 them and the congregation of the puissant Santa 
 Clara. 
 
 It was a melancholy scene. I could have under- 
 stood it if it were an office for the dead. But to 
 see the dust and ashes before me deified, reverence 
 given to it, prayers offered to it, and its " dull cold 
 ear" invaded with the soft sounds of music, the 
 priest and the worshiper standing around — I 
 could not but feel that human nature was de- 
 graded, and that the great Being, who pervades all 
 things, was dishonoured and deprived of his in- 
 alienable rights. The creature was deified — the 
 Creator forgotten. 
 
 When the organ had filled the church with a few 
 more of its solemn tones, through whose aisles it 
 vibrated with a full effect, the priests took each a 
 handle of the platform, and, continuing the chaunt, 
 advanced towards the door. They then pro- 
 ceeded, bearing Santa Clara through the street 
 for a short distance, when they again entered the 
 
182 SANTA CLARA. 
 
 door of the convent that was close at hand. The 
 priests paused, and the eager multitude were per- 
 mitted to take one more glance, the doors closed, 
 and Santa Clara was conveyed to her box, or shelf, 
 wherever her repose may be, to sleep if she may, 
 after this periodical visit to the light, until another 
 year ushers in her festival. 
 
RESPECT TO THE VIRGIN. 183 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 RESPECT TO THE VIRGIN. — HER ALTARS AND PICTURES. — INSCRIP- 
 TIONS. — WORSHIP OF THE VIRGIN. — MIRACULOUS CONVERSION 
 
 OP A JEW AT THE CHURCH OF ST. ANDREA DEL TRATE. 
 
 BRONZE STATUE OF THE VIRGIN NEAR THE CHURCH OF SANTA 
 MARIA MAGGIORE. IL VOLTO SANTO. 
 
 After a month's residence at Rome, a stranger, 
 unacquainted with the religion professed there, 
 would most probably conclude that the Virgin 
 Mary is the deity of the Italians. The appear- 
 ance of the interior of the churches, and many 
 indications in the streets, would incline him to 
 that opinion. In the former he finds various paint- 
 ings of her, placed generally in the most promi- 
 nent places, and not unfrequently statues bearing 
 her likeness, or wooden figures richly attired. In 
 the latter he observes, at the corners of most streets, 
 or " in triviis" a bust of the Virgin with a small 
 lamp before it, and some words underneath ex- 
 pressive of confidence or devotion. The altar 
 of the Virgin has always the greatest number of 
 
18* RESPECT TO THE VIRGIN; 
 
 suppliants, while that upon which rests the em- 
 blem of salvation, the cross, has but a straggling 
 worshiper. At the places for devotion* in the 
 streets, also, a devout person may be occasionally 
 found on his knees, deaf to the noise around him, 
 undisturbed by car or cavalcade, paying his orisons. 
 
 The days set apart in honour of the Virgin are 
 very numerous, and are as much observed as the 
 Sabbath, or probably more. The shops are closed, 
 and to transact any business would be sacrilege. 
 The street porter will refuse to carry the load of 
 " legnia " or "fascine," with the excuse " Questa 
 giorno dfesta, signore? The churches are all fre- 
 quented, and vespers celebrated with much splen- 
 dour ; while the cardinal rolls along in his heavy 
 vehicle to his own church, to take part in the ser- 
 vice of the day, or to enhance it by his presence. 
 The population wear their best attire, as we meet 
 them in the thoroughfares. All — priest, citizen, 
 and noble — unite in their homage. 
 
 The processions in honour of the Virgin are 
 both more numerous and splendid than any others 
 which take place in the city. We see pictures 
 of her borne along, or her image ; and the respect 
 
 * Altar, I believe, is not the correct term for these ; but there 
 are several places for worship, marked either by an image or cross. 
 
HER ALTARS AND PICTURES. 185 
 
 that is shewn to these is universal and unequivocal, 
 while the priest recites a service, in which the 
 Virgin's name occurs frequently. At the sermons 
 in the churches, two-thirds of them are filled with 
 praises or invocations of the Virgin. " Santissima 
 Maria" falls upon the ear as frequently as the 
 revered name of God does in our own liturgy. 
 Sometimes the preacher points to her picture to 
 enforce his positions, directing the eyes of his 
 hearers there, where he endeavours to direct their 
 hearts. It is the Virgin they have offended by 
 their sins ; it is her they must invocate — she is to 
 be their intercessor. 
 
 I have also observed that the altar dedicated to 
 the Virgin in most churches, but particularly in 
 the chapels of the monasteries, is decked with the 
 gayest flowers of the season — the perfume of the 
 rose mingling with the stronger odour of the 
 incense. In these chapels, also, the pictures of the 
 Virgin are the most numerous. In some we find 
 the crowning of the Virgin by angels, in others the 
 clouds painted under her feet. In one I saw an 
 extraordinary painting, which proves the respect, 
 or rather reverence, in which she is held. Upon 
 the circular roof was painted, and evidently by a 
 very superior hand, our Saviour and God the 
 
186 ALTARS AND PICTURES OF THE VIRGIN. 
 
 Father, and between these, but far above them, 
 exalted into the highest position, was the figure of 
 the Virgin. If we are to interpret it, it would 
 seem, that, as she occupied the chief position, she 
 had the chief power. The three figures were 
 similarly placed to the three prominent figures in 
 Raphael's " Transfiguration." Our Saviour, who 
 is raised above Moses and Elias, properly repre- 
 sents Him "who has all power in heaven and 
 in earth." 
 
 The most favoured subject of the painters, past 
 and present, is the Madonna. Raphael, Murillo, 
 Carlo Dolci, the Caracci, have derived an immor- 
 tality from transferring her to their canvas. In 
 every studio at the present day, from the humble 
 room in the Via Capuccini to the salons of the 
 Condotti or the Barberino, we find the Madre Ad- 
 dolorata in number and variety. It is clear they 
 paint for the demand. The supply would cease 
 unless the customers were numerous. 
 
 Under the busts or figures of the Virgin, which 
 abound throughout the city, a lamp is always lighted 
 in the evening. This is for her honour, and for 
 the purpose of pointing her out to the devotion of 
 the passenger. The words written underneath 
 vary, but are always highly laudatory, and gene- 
 
INSCRIPTIONS. 187 
 
 rally consist of terms which should only be applied 
 to the Supreme Being. It is frequently a single 
 sentence: " Madre di Dio^pregate per me." 
 
 In the Strada di Lavatore, there is a small 
 statue of the Virgin, and underneath these words in 
 Greek, 'EXttU ifjuov. The purport of the words 
 clearly discloses the position she occupies in the 
 mind of the Catholic. David addresses God as 
 "my hope." Christians may well address our 
 Saviour after that manner, as his atonement sup- 
 plies them with the hopes of happiness and salva- 
 tion. But we find here the province and the pri- 
 vilege of the Saviour ascribed to her. In fact, she 
 appears to them as superior to Him in authority 
 and power, as a mother retains an influence over 
 her child. They argue from earthly to heavenly 
 things, and involve themselves in the difficulties 
 which attend those who follow that practice in 
 things to which they cannot apply. 
 
 The Scriptures declare that the being, of whom 
 Christ was born after a manner altogether miracu- 
 lous, was highly favoured among women, but there 
 is nothing that can be construed as supporting 
 her worship. She was a human creature, and did 
 not lose that nature by being the chosen vessel of 
 the incarnation. God, the Trinity, is to be 
 
188 WORSHIP OF THE VIRGIN. 
 
 worshiped only. Adoration paid to anything else 
 is idolatry. 
 
 The modern Italians, however, are like their 
 ancestors, who had their choice of temples and of 
 shrines, to pray in and be purified. It is not im- 
 probable the habits of their fathers have been 
 transmitted with their blood, and have caused this 
 pervading desire of exalting a female as a recipient 
 of their adoration. There may be more in this 
 than people commonly think. Probably when the 
 people were called upon to surrender a Juno or 
 Diana, they were resolved to have instead the 
 statue or picture of the Virgin. At first the 
 foundation may have been weak, but various 
 circumstances may have strengthened it, and the 
 priests, who might have been indisposed to it in 
 the beginning, may have become willing converts, 
 by reason, probably, of the golden streams it 
 brought into the Church. 
 
 At present the worship of the Virgin is placed 
 upon the strongest foundations at Rome. Pope, 
 priest, and people alike favour it. It is agreeable 
 to their habits and wishes, so firmly interwoven 
 with their system, that I am sure they are con- 
 vinced, if her worship received a wound, the 
 fabric of their religion would fall to pieces. This 
 
CONVERSION OF A JEW. 189 
 
 article of their creed gains strength daily, and, 
 instead of giving way before extended knowledge 
 and enlightened times, it takes a firmer hold upon 
 their hearts and affections. The priests are not 
 idle for the purpose of maintaining this belief, and 
 various authentic narratives are told of the success- 
 ful intercession of the Virgin, or of her miraculous 
 influence. One that has occurred very lately, and 
 that has been celebrated in all circles in the 
 Eternal City, I shall here relate. 
 
 A wealthy Jew of Germany had visited Rome 
 for the usual purpose of travellers, to gaze upon 
 the architectural beauty of its eloquent ruins, to 
 admire its unrivalled pictures and statues, as well 
 as to enjoy the summer freshness of its climate* 
 and the richness of its scenery. He had formed, 
 during his stay, some acquaintances amongst the 
 priests, the aristocracy of Rome ; and, of course, 
 among other attractions, he had visited several of 
 the churches, remarkable for their own beauty, 
 as well as the treasures of art deposited within 
 them. 
 
 One day, in his walks through the city, on the 
 
 * In the climate of Italy, particularly of Rome, the sun during the 
 winter months possesses a heat not much removed from what we 
 experience in spring. 
 
190 CONVERSION OF 
 
 north of .the Tiber, his companion happened to be 
 a priest and a Jesuit. They had just passed the 
 Collegio di Propaganda Fede, when the church of 
 St. Andrea del Trate stood inviting them to enter. 
 The Jew was a thorough unbeliever, and the things 
 that he had seen at Rome confirmed it, so that, 
 even in the hearing of his friend, he indulged in 
 no measured sneer at the national worship. 
 
 The church contains the usual number of paint- 
 ings and images of saints, dressed in the fashion 
 prevalent in Catholic countries. It need hardly 
 be said that the whole appearance was equally 
 opposed to the faith and the habits of the Jew. 
 He condemned the priests and pitied the people, 
 and thought the whole system as foreign from the 
 service of God, as that which his forefathers found 
 in the land of Canaan. Well, the Jesuit entered 
 the sacred precincts, and with some difficulty 
 brought the Israelite along with him. The Jesuit, 
 at the Virgin's altar, fell upon his knees, and 
 remained in fervent prayer, while the Jew examined 
 what was worthy of attention in the place. More 
 than usual he had the sneer upon his lip, " suspen- 
 dens omnia in adunco naso" and sometimes his 
 remark was so loud as to fall upon the ear of the 
 prostrate priest. The holy water was an abomina- 
 
A JEW. 191 
 
 tion, — the images of the saints, idols, — the altars 
 defiled. It occurred to the Jesuit to intercede 
 for his erring friend: the altar at which he bent 
 was a potent one; the conversion, if successful, 
 well worthy his consideration. 
 
 The time passed on in the dim religious place, 
 and the faithful and the unbeliever continued 
 occupied as before. Suddenly, with the speed of 
 light, a change came o'er the features of the Jew. 
 The sneer departed, the spirit which possessed him 
 fled away. His face exhibited a feeling between 
 fear and devotion, so strongly marked as to para- 
 lyse for awhile the good Jesuit. He fell upon his 
 knees, wrapt as it were in a trance, gazing with 
 all the intentness of a saint towards the same small 
 altar of the Virgin. He prayed, crossed himself, 
 confessed, wept, and arose a new man, no longer 
 a member of the sect of his fathers, but a Roman 
 Catholic. A miracle had been performed. The 
 Virgin, he said, appeared to him in bloom and 
 beauty, clothed in light, beckoning him to her 
 shrine, and welcoming him to the temple. An 
 influence flowed from the vision deep and irre- 
 sistible. Conviction at the moment flashed upon 
 his mind. The decision was involuntary. He 
 was no longer a Jew. 
 
192 SANTA MARIA MAGGIORE. 
 
 He continued to gaze on the vision : when he 
 rose from his knees it departed. The Jesuit was 
 dumb with surprise ; he saw " the change that 
 came o'er" the Jew, but he saw not the vision. 
 This very Jew is now a Jesuit, has given his wealth 
 to the college, and after a few years of study, 
 being admitted to orders, will disseminate those 
 doctrines of the truth of which he was convinced 
 in so extraordinary a manner. Over this very altar 
 a picture was immediately placed to commemorate 
 the event, representing the Virgin with a globe 
 under her feet, exactly as she appeared to him. 
 The sacristan points to it with pride, and the 
 people kneel before it in numbers. This account 
 I have from undoubted authority. 
 
 Again, it is a proof of the high regard in which 
 the Virgin is held, from the number of churches 
 that are dedicated to her. At the head of these 
 stands Santa Maria Maggiore, a beautiful and ex- 
 tensive structure. Hardly a church at Rome is 
 to be found simply dedicated to God, but the saints 
 come in for the honour. To the care of the Virgin 
 is entrusted the largest part, evidently shewing the 
 position she occupies in their minds. There is one 
 church at Rome sacred to Jesus. It belongs to 
 the Jesuits, and is know at Rome as the M Gesu" 
 
IL VOLTO SANTO. 193 
 
 At the rear of the church of Santa Maria 
 Maggiore is a magnificent fluted column, of the 
 Corinthian order, one of the most splendid remains 
 of ancient times, although but a remnant. It be- 
 longed to a colossal temple, and is worthy of the 
 genius of the great people whose architecture kept 
 pace with their conquests. Upon this column has 
 been placed a bronze statue of the Virgin ; exhibit- 
 ing by this act the degree of veneration in which 
 she is held — standing upon the remains of an old 
 temple, as if that gave way to establish the mode of 
 worship of which she is a principal part. 
 
 As a proof that this respect to, or reverence of, 
 the Virgin is general, and not prevalent only at 
 Rome, I may mention here an event connected 
 with the Church chronicles of Lucca. 
 
 IL VOLTO SANTO. 
 
 There is an image in the cathedral at Lucca 
 known by this appellation, the history of which is 
 well worth relating, chiefly because it has a well- 
 known precedent in antiquity, with the various 
 matters relating to which it seems curiously, but of 
 course without intention, to coincide. 
 
 Some Italian mariners were sailing on the Me- 
 diterranean, who observed at a distance an object 
 
 K 
 
194 IL VOLTO SANTO. 
 
 floating. Thinking it worth following, they di- 
 rected their course towards it. The weather hap- 
 pened to be fine, and from want of wind it took 
 them a good while to approach. They came up 
 with it at length, and it proved to be a wooden 
 image, rather well carved, and of a somewhat mys- 
 terious appearance. They agreed that it repre- 
 sented the Virgin. Without any more delay they 
 took it into the vessel, better pleased than if it 
 had been a rich prize, not doubting that it had 
 been sent from heaven, or at least placed there by 
 Divine means, for the edification and adoration of 
 the Italians. The greatest care was bestowed 
 upon their visitor during the remainder of the 
 voyage ; the captain assigning it the chief place in 
 his cabin, and holding sundry deliberations with 
 his crew, as to how they should dispose of it upon 
 making land. They all considered that the inci- 
 dent of the day had made them happy men, and 
 paved the future with something more than hope. 
 
 Soon after, a fair wind sprung up, and loosing 
 the canvas to the blast, they made direct for Leg- 
 horn ; but upon nearing that port a violent storm 
 arose, and after beating about, and in vain endea- 
 vouring to effect their object, they were obliged 
 to put away for Genoa. Shortly after Nature put 
 
IL VOLTO SANTO. 195 
 
 on a more smiling face, and the weather became 
 moderate, and in due time they arrived within 
 sight of the port. But upon endeavouring to enter 
 Genoa, the elements enacted the same scene ; the 
 storm arose, the wind and the wave struggled fierce- 
 ly together, and debarred all access. Almost in 
 despair, but attributing these storms to reluctance on 
 the part of the image of the Virgin to enter either 
 of these harbours, they put about, and coasting 
 back, they made for a small harbour contiguous 
 to the principality of Lucca. When, lo ! all was 
 propitious. By and by they land, when, having 
 formed a small procession, they carry along the 
 new palladium of Lucca with as much pomp as 
 the old one of Troy. 
 
 In due time the image of the Virgin arrived at 
 Lucca, and was taken to the church of a monas- 
 tery, when an extraordinary event happened. 
 Upon the morning after her arrival she was no- 
 where to be found. What had become of it ? Was 
 the treasure stolen? Did the sea-captain repent 
 of his resolution, and resume possession, befriended 
 by the night ? While some doubted, and all were 
 confounded, search was made in every quarter. 
 In due time the image was found in another 
 quarter of the city in an upright position. The 
 
 k2 
 
196 IL VOLTO SANTO. 
 
 devout monks, surprised not a little, and pro- 
 nouncing a few " aves" took it back. The doors 
 were closed with greater care, and the azure twilight 
 of Italy announced the approach of another night. 
 On the following morning, again, the sacristan, 
 aghast, announced to the brotherhood that the image 
 had disappeared. The experience of the preceding 
 day at once directed them where to go, and she 
 was found in the same place and position. This hap- 
 pened a third time; when the monks willingly agreed 
 to relinquish their newly-acquired treasure, afraid 
 of something serious happening to their commu- 
 nity, if they should persist in their claim. Hence, 
 it was determined to erect, on the spot where the 
 image had chosen, a temple worthy of so miracu- 
 lous and august a guest. The cathedral was forth- 
 with commenced, and, as an inducement to sub- 
 scriptions, the image found cast upon the ocean 
 was exposed for the veneration of the multitude. 
 Money flowed in, and the work progressed 
 apace. 
 
 One day an eminent citizen stood among the 
 crowd, and it was evident that he regarded the 
 whole matter with no very favourable eye. His look 
 was full of contempt, his lip of sneers. The lan- 
 guage of his features did not escape the notice of 
 
IL VOLTO SANTO. 197 
 
 the attending priest. The citizen's insane opinion 
 evidently was, that it was a mere ruse of the clergy 
 to serve a purpose. He even was overheard to 
 .say " It is all a farce, and I will not give a sous" 
 These remarks more than one heard in the neigh- 
 bourhood of the image. The words had no sooner 
 escaped his lips , when, wonderful to relate, the 
 image stooped down, took off its gilt slipper, and 
 flung it directly in his face. It is needless to say 
 that he immediately became a convert, and brought 
 all that he had and laid it at the feet of the 
 clergy. 
 
 Upon this festival the people flock into the 
 cathedral from the whole country. The exposition 
 of the image takes place, when the highest honour 
 and adoration are paid. A priest stands beside 
 her. He hastily with one hand receives a piece of 
 silver, with the other the cross and beads of the 
 suppliant. These he rubs to the toe or hand of 
 the Virgin, and they are reverently received again. 
 They then become a sort of talisman, protecting 
 the owner from danger and accident. They de- 
 posit it as carefully in their bosoms as if it were 
 a cross of diamonds. Every Luccan is present at 
 this ceremony, and it is regarded as a positive evil 
 if anything happens to keep him away. 
 
198 IL VOLTO SANTO. 
 
 To the main facts here there is nothing added. 
 The account or the legend every devout Luccan 
 will tell. The analogy between this image and 
 the palladium of Troy is very close. Its origin is 
 like that of the latter : — 
 
 ** Creditur armiferao signum coeleste Minervae 
 Urbis in Iliacae desiluisse juga." — Ovid, Fasti. 
 
BURIAL OF THE DEAD. 199 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 BURIAL OF THE DEAD. OBSEQUIES. — MORTALITY SOCIETIES. 
 
 MONUMENTS. INSCRIPTIONS. —CHAPEL OP THE CAPUCHINS. 
 
 ITALIAN CEMETERIES. — ENGLISH BURIAL-GROUND. 
 
 In nothing are our habits and those of the 
 Italians more marked and distinct, than in the 
 mode in which the burial of the dead is conducted. 
 As soon as life is extinct, some of the fraternities, 
 the Capuchins or Franciseans, are informed of it, 
 and to these alone is entrusted the conduct of the 
 funeral. The relatives of the deceased fly to the 
 country or to their friends, and thus leave the 
 member they have lost to his cold couch and dark 
 chamber. 
 
 When " the first day of death has fled," the 
 brothers of the convent assemble at the house, 
 and carry the body to a neighbouring church, 
 where they celebrate the obsequies ; as they pass 
 in the streets they also sing in a dirge-like voice 
 a service appropriate to the occasion. These alone 
 
200 BURIAL OF THE DEAD. 
 
 are the undertakers, the mourners, or the 
 mutes. 
 
 The father does not follow his child to the last 
 bourne, or the husband the wife of his bosom as 
 she departs to the sleep of the tomb. They 
 descend to their last resting-place, unwept, un- 
 honoured, but not " unsung." The body is in- 
 terred in its clothes, as coffins are not the fashion 
 at Rome. Sometimes the face is exposed as it is 
 carried through the streets,* exhibiting to the 
 thoughtless passenger the languor and the listless- 
 ness of death. He may look upon the shrivelled 
 features of age, the health of youth, or the vigour 
 of beauty, slowly wending to the same goal. Wax 
 tapers are always borne, and the bearers stand 
 holding them, ranged at each side of the corpse, 
 when it is brought into the church. Then a 
 solemn or a short service is repeated, according, I 
 suppose, to the wishes or the wealth of the sur- 
 viving friends. Holy water is strewn upon it, and 
 the vessel of incense sends forth its spicy clouds. 
 " The last scene of all " then takes place, and it is 
 hastily deposited in a vault of the church, or hurried 
 off to one of the cemeteries which have lately been 
 erected. 
 
 * This custom is now mostly confined to Naples. 
 
OBSEQUIES. 201 
 
 Though the Italian custom be very different from 
 ours, it is a question whether it is not preferable. 
 What can relations attending the obsequies of 
 friends avail them? It is to pay them respect. 
 But the time for that is past. The ear of death is 
 dull and cold, the heart insensible to attachment 
 or attention. The bereaved friends afford, too, 
 on such occasions, subjects of remark, according to 
 the taste or feeling of the spectator. They afford 
 themselves a spectacle which might be well spared. 
 To the sincere they are trying moments, which 
 serve no purpose but probably to aggravate the 
 wound that Providence has dealt. To the super- 
 ficial they bring a flimsy gravity which is easily 
 seen through. Home is the sanctuary which, on 
 such occasions, is best calculated to relieve the 
 wounded spirit, where reflection, undisturbed by 
 the public gaze or petulant remark, may feed on 
 hope. 
 
 When Death has seized his prize all is over, our 
 endeavours are at an end. The spirit we loved 
 has passed to another world ; the eye that looked 
 upon us is divested of its fire; the heart that beat 
 for us, cold as the dew in the church-yard. It is 
 but the wreck of the past, like a fallen leaf or a 
 faded flower, divested of its tints and its perfume, 
 
 K 5 
 
202 MORTALITY SOCIETIES. 
 
 which no heat of spring shall call again into life. 
 It is not therefore necessary that we should accom- 
 pany these dead relics with that regard and affec- 
 tion which are the heritage only of the living. On 
 such occasions the object that we loved could not 
 be placed in better hands than in those of the 
 Church. 
 
 There are numerous mortality societies,* which 
 comprise in their body the lowest as well as the 
 highest of the inhabitants. These undertake the 
 burial of poor persons, and those whose relatives 
 cannot afford the payments which on these occa- 
 sions are made to the Church. They are fre- 
 quently to be seen engaged in their melancholy 
 office, but presenting a very curious spectacle, from 
 every member being habited in a white dress. 
 They also wear a hood or mask of the same mate- 
 rial, with holes for the eyes only visible. They, it 
 is clear, desire to preserve an incognito, since, being 
 in many cases respectable persons, it is desirable 
 to escape the public gaze. The employment is 
 considered meritorious, and, like charity, washes 
 away a multitude of sins. It is said that the Grand 
 Duke of Tuscany is a member of one of these 
 societies in his own dominions, and frequently 
 takes his turn at the burial of the dead. They 
 
VAULTS. 203 
 
 carry a great number of wax lights, for the purpose, 
 I suppose, of lighting the soul on its way to 
 heaven, the route having been darkened so much 
 by the devices of man in the city of the Popes. A 
 crucifix, or a picture of the Virgin, generally leads 
 the procession. 
 
 Up to a comparatively recent period no other 
 places of sepulture existed except the vaults under 
 the church. These vaults are to be found under 
 every church, and are capacious receptacles. In 
 point of fact, the flags under your feet are all 
 grave-stones, each bearing a few vanishing memo- 
 rials, frequently the coat-of-arms, and a rudely- 
 carved effigy. It must appear at once that a prac- 
 tice like this was highly injurious to the health of 
 the city ; consequently it has, in some degree, been 
 discontinued, and only wealthy or aristocratical 
 houses retain their family vault. Two cemeteries 
 have been established, which are the Golgothas 
 of the modern city. 
 
 The majority of these tombs belong to the fif- 
 teenth and sixteenth centuries, and it well repays the 
 trouble to examine them. The dress of the period 
 is indelibly fixed upon them. No better or more 
 authentic source could be found for ascertaining 
 the costume of these times. A coat with a single 
 
204 MONUMENTS. 
 
 row of buttons, fixed tightly to the throat, as if 
 the wearer was in the pillory, and frills, as we find 
 them in the portraits of Charles II.'s reign, are 
 found on the greater number. The female dress 
 is also peculiar, hooped as in the Elizabethan 
 era, or else fitting the person closely. No part 
 of the church is exempt from these stones, 
 the chancel is paved with them, as well as the 
 aisle. Monuments are also very numerous. We 
 find mostly an inscription surmounted by a well- 
 executed bust of the deceased person ; often, also, 
 statues of exquisite form and finish. These tri- 
 butes, with which affection has gifted the dead, 
 may be well reckoned amongst the most beautiful 
 ornaments of the churches. It is clear that no ex- 
 pense has been spared, and I think it not impro- 
 bable that some of the happiest efforts of the 
 sculptors of modern times will be found within the 
 sacred precincts. There is in St. Peter's a skele- 
 ton carved out of marble. It is a well-finished 
 work, and proves that nothing is beyond Italian 
 skill. The statuaries of the consular or imperial 
 times were very happy at many objects besides the 
 human figure ; the sculptors of our own age must 
 yield them the palm here. 
 
 The inscriptions are generally pompous and pro- 
 
MONUMENTS. 
 
 lix, setting forth the advantages of the defunct, and 
 declaring how little the Saviour was in the mind 
 of the survivor. I give the inscription from one 
 monument in the English college. It is the type 
 of its class. Swinburne, to whose daughter it was 
 erected, had been long abroad, and imbibed pro- 
 bably Italian habits and tastes in this as well as in 
 other things : — 
 
 " Martha Swinburne, born Oct. 10, 1758, died 
 Sept. 8, 1778. Her years were few, but her life 
 was long and full. She spoke English, French, 
 and Italian, and had made some progress in the 
 Latin tongue ; knew the English and Roman his- 
 tories, arithmetic, and geography ; sung the most 
 difficult music at sight, with one of the finest voices 
 in the world ; was a great proficient of the harpsi- 
 chord ; wrote well ; danced many sorts of dances 
 with strength and elegance. Her form was beauti- 
 ful and majestic, her body a perfect model, and all 
 her motions graceful. Her docility and alacrity in 
 doing everything to make her parents happy, could 
 only be equalled by her sense and aptitude. With 
 so many perfections, amidst the praises of all per- 
 sons from the sovereign down to the beggar in the 
 street, her heart was incapable of vanity. Affec- 
 tation and arrogance were unknown to her. Her 
 
206 CAPUCHIN CHAPEL. 
 
 beauty and accomplishments rendered her the ad- 
 miration of all beholders, the love of all those who 
 enjoyed her company. Think, then, what the pangs 
 of her wretched parents must be in so cruel a 
 separation. Their only comfort is the certitude of 
 her being completely happy, beyond the reach of 
 pain, and for ever freed from the miseries of this 
 life. She can never feel the torments they endure 
 for the loss of a beloved child. Blame them not 
 in indulging in innocent pride, or transmitting her 
 memory to posterity, as an honour to her family 
 and to her native country, England. Let this plain 
 character, penned by her disconsolate father, draw 
 a tear of pity from every eye that peruses it." 
 
 The Capuchins of the monastery on the south 
 slope of the Pincian are interred under their own 
 church. After they have lain a sufficient time for 
 the worm or the damp to divest the bones of the 
 enveloping muscles, the brotherhood descend into 
 the narrow house, and raise the skeleton from its 
 long repose. They then place it in an upright 
 position in the chapel exactly under the church, 
 and dress it in the coarse robes the Capuchin 
 wore during life. There may be seen a spectacle 
 sufficiently harrowing. A group so gaunt and 
 grim, probably, has never existed, except in the 
 
CAPUCHIN CHAPEL. 207 
 
 pages of poetry or romance. But truth is strange, 
 stranger than fiction. There they stand, as silent 
 as the grave they have left — dark and mute as 
 midnight. It is a scene that freezes, casting over 
 the heart some of the gloom that surrounds the 
 place, and reflecting there much of its desolation. 
 The bare skulls and the hollow eyes meet you at 
 every step; and it is impossible to divest oneself 
 of the idea that they are unearthly, looking upon 
 you, and searching into your soul. While we 
 wander in this wide grave, imagination gives them 
 life, and in the flickering shade of the torch, a limb 
 seems now to be in motion, a hand now to be up- 
 raised, those bare teeth seem to chatter, and that 
 dark form to move suddenly towards you. 
 
 There they stand in files, as if you had visited 
 Pluto's realms, and beheld unveiled the dread pro- 
 ceedings below. A minute before, all was life in 
 the streets above ; here is the stillness and reality 
 of death. There the Italian sun bathes towers and 
 temples in its living light ; but here darkness was 
 removed only to discover decay. I pity the poor 
 Capuchin, who looks forward to this as his resting- 
 place : denied the slumber of the tomb — that sleep 
 that knows no waking, pillowed with no sister or 
 sire, nor with the freshness of the morn over his 
 
208 CAPUCHIN CHAPEL. 
 
 cold bed, the sun-beams warming it into verdure, 
 or the starlight falling on it, like messengers of 
 heaven. His sleep is broken, the sanctuary of his 
 repose defiled, that he may stand as a gazing-stock 
 to the stupid populace — a mark for the sneer of 
 the thoughtless, or the jest of the profane. Such 
 a scene, certainly, can be of no use to the living, 
 and is obviously deficient in respect for the dead. 
 The earth, our common mother, claims those perish- 
 ing elements, and it would seem to be sacrilege to 
 take them from her bosom. 
 
 The practice, however, is an ingenious plan to 
 invest the character of their order with as much 
 sanctity as possible. They thus, as it were, stand 
 forth as priests for all time; their tongues made 
 mute by death, but ready to enter again upon that 
 office, when some extraordinary agency shall be 
 vouchsafed to awaken their energies. It is need- 
 less to say that this care and show are not for 
 nothing. On certain festivals this subterranean 
 chapel is opened to the public, when a mixture 
 of the living and the dead may be seen — a spec- 
 tacle such as no capital that I am aware of can 
 exhibit. 
 
 I visited the cemetery outside the Porta San Lo- 
 renzo, and was much surprised to find it so deso- 
 
ITALIAN CEMETERY. 209 
 
 late a spot. One would have thought, from a 
 knowledge of Italian character, that they would 
 have bestowed some of their taste, and exercised 
 their genius, in adorning or improving their burial- 
 grounds. But the same spirit that has directed 
 them to abandon their friends with their last 
 breath, has also influenced them here. There is 
 no record of affection, (I cannot call the few slabs 
 that I met with by the name,) no neatness, no ves- 
 tige visible, which tells that our feet are treading 
 over the dead. The contrast between our retired 
 grave-yards, — generally removed from the hum of 
 life, each tenanted mound covered with verdure, and 
 the trees not without their beauty, declaring, as it 
 were, that, though death is around, they are full of 
 the principles of life, while a mossy tower or tot- 
 tering ruin is in unison with the scene, — must 
 strike every observer. 
 
 The Roman cemetery is an enclosed field, con- 
 taining fifty-two vaults. The flag that covers each 
 is level with the ground. One of these remains 
 opens every week, and yawns darkly and dreadly 
 for the victims of seven days. There are jumbled 
 together the old and the young, the sickly and the 
 strong. The bride, the widow, the mother, the 
 child — all go down together. The friend and the 
 
210 ITALIAN CEMETERY. 
 
 foe lie side by side, their hands possibly clasped, as 
 all alike are coffinless. It is a wretched mass of 
 flesh, garments, and putrefaction. Affection must 
 be very blunt, or love but short-lived, that thus 
 can suffer the objects upon which both were cen- 
 tred to become inmates of this horrible charnel- 
 house. But it is the custom of the country, and 
 it is never questioned. 
 
 Upon the walls, probably fifty yards off, some 
 marble slabs are placed, erected by friends to tell 
 that the remains of a father or a son are entombed 
 in this cemetery. A lever lifts the flag whenever 
 the procession of death demands it. At the con- 
 clusion of a week quicklime is thrown in, it is 
 then sealed for the year, when the next vault is 
 opened to receive its human garbage. The grave, 
 which is at the least the heritage of mortality, the 
 poor Italian never knows with its decency, order, 
 and cleanliness, but he is decreed to rot with 
 hundreds, and not to mingle his dust with those of 
 his household or his heart. The very position of 
 the bodies, distorted, convulsed, ill at ease, seems 
 to bespeak their degradation. 
 
 There is no cypress nor willow, emblems of sad- 
 ness, such as we meet with in the French cemeteries 
 — mourners that outlive the grief that gives way to 
 
CIMETERIO INGLESE. 211 
 
 time, and which look like nature's tribute to worth ; 
 no elm casting its shadows over the damp bed, 
 through whose branches the winter wind pours its 
 requiem for the dead, or sheltering the remains in 
 autumn with its golden leaves ; but it is cold and 
 bare as the mountain heath, as cheerless and as 
 lonely as the wilderness. 
 
 As the English usually congregate in large 
 numbers at Rome, casualties will happen, so they 
 have been obliged to procure a burial-ground. It 
 lies on the Via Ostia, and contains within its 
 bounds the celebrated pyramid of Caius Sestius. 
 This place, where many an English heart moulders, 
 contains many eminent names, among whom are 
 John Bell the surgeon, and Keats the poet. It is 
 enclosed with a wall, and is upon the usual plan of 
 our simple grave-yards. 
 
 It is impossible for the tourist to enter this, or 
 the cemetery at Leghorn, without feelings of deep 
 melancholy ; at least, I do not envy him who has 
 not such impressions. How many of his country- 
 men who are at rest there, in this land of the 
 stranger, passed their last moments with no friendly 
 hand near! In their mortal struggles, their thoughts, 
 like the gladiator's, were " far away," breathing 
 wishes never to be heard, anxious for one meeting 
 
212 CIMETERIO INGLESE. 
 
 more, one look, one kiss, ere the scene closes on 
 them for ever. The invalid, perhaps, who had 
 sought the sunny shores of Italy on the pilgrimage 
 for health, or the young and strong, cut off by the 
 summer fever of this abode of malaria, are no 
 doubt the most numerous occupants of the "Cime- 
 terio Inglese." But the traveller, who comes to 
 look upon the classic ruins of this lovely land, 
 should let this spot also claim a moment of his 
 time. It is due to those who rest there. Its effect 
 will not be lost on himself. 
 
PALACES OF THE POPE. 213 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 PALACES OF THE POPE. — THE VATICAN. THE LATER AN PALACE. 
 
 THE QUIRINAL. — PRISONS. — POPULACE OP ROME. — STATE OF 
 
 THE COUNTRY. ITS POLICY. 
 
 Albeit the Pope be but a bishop of the Church, 
 and the great patron of celibacy, in person as well 
 as precept, his wants are provided for as if he 
 was the head of a numerous family, and required 
 accommodation for their establishments as well 
 as his own. He has no less than three extensive 
 palaces within the walls of the city of Rome. 
 To a temporal prince, who might people these 
 vast chambers, or occasionally fill them by his hos- 
 pitality, they would be natural and necessary. But 
 what use they are to the crowned ecclesiastic who 
 sits in St. Peter's chair, I am at a loss to deter- 
 mine. Probably it had been more in accordance 
 with the spirit of the Church if the dwelling of its 
 head was less ostentatious and superb, as indicative 
 of one who claims peculiar rights with regard to 
 
214 PALACE OF 
 
 that kingdom which is not of this world. These 
 palaces are in no way inferior to other royal resi- 
 dences, either in extent or ornament. They come 
 before many, in these as well as in other respects. 
 
 The palaces are the Vatican, St. John Laterals, 
 and the Quirinal. The Vatican adjoins St. Peter's, 
 and is a part of that great structure. It stands 
 upon its right, and is entered by the noblest stairs, 
 possibly, in existence, from the great court in front, 
 surrounded by the colossal colonnade of Michael 
 Angelo. It is a square building, not imposing in 
 its external appearance, and deriving its chief orna- 
 nament from its neighbourhood and associations. 
 The site is elegantly chosen, commanding exten- 
 sive views. The city lies at its feet ; glimpses of 
 the Tiber are caught from the windows, threading 
 its way amid verdant hills and dark ruins. The 
 Sabine hills appear in the distance, bounding the 
 view — in some instances rocky and bare, at others 
 green as the champaign. At their bases several 
 villages are discerned, from which points to the 
 sky the tower of some sacred edifice, or some rem- 
 nant of Roman times. The beautiful Tivoli, 
 eminently picturesque, is directly opposite, its 
 white walls gleaming in the sun, relieved by the 
 sober pines which shelter it from the Tramontane 
 
THE VATICAN. 215 
 
 blast. As you turn more to the south Frescati 
 discovers itself, with its detached villas and num- 
 berless terraces. Frequently the tints of the even- 
 ing sun clothe the distant view in a deep azure, 
 which slowly melts away in the twilight into the 
 darker shadows of eve. Nearer the windows lies 
 the mausoleum of Adrian, now the great defence 
 of the Vatican,* while the deserted Campagna 
 stretches on all sides until it is lost in the 
 Appenines or the clouds. 
 
 The Vatican contains within its walls the great 
 museum of Rome, rich in the remains of antiquity. 
 Statues, which have conferred immortality upon 
 the maker, are in numberless variety. Bassi- 
 relievi, busts, urns, full of taste and genius, meet 
 you at every step through these unequalled galle- 
 ries. You are brought back to the times of the 
 emperors, and hold communion with the greatest 
 works of the mighty dead. 
 
 The paintings are all master-pieces, objects 
 which once seen leave their facsimile on the 
 imagination. The objects in the Vatican museum 
 are priceless. It must ever rank the highest and 
 most interesting in the world. 
 
 The chambers in this elegant palace amount to 
 
 * Converted into the Castle of Saint Angelo. 
 
216 PALACE OF 
 
 several thousand, and the chief amongst them are 
 covered with frescoes of the greatest painters of mo- 
 dern times. The artists were Raphael, Guido, &c. 
 The Pope inhabits a superb suite of apartments, 
 situated in the inner quadrangle. The Swiss 
 guard are always at hand, but not in any extensive 
 force. They are clad in the most uncouth dress 
 that I have ever seen worn by soldiers. They are 
 exactly like the harlequins we see upon village 
 stages, with coats and trousers of party-colours. 
 They wear a hat and carry a halbert. His Holi- 
 ness" household also remain in the palace, amount- 
 ing to three or four cardinals, a few monsignores 
 and prelates. 
 
 The gardens are most extensive, and fitted 
 up with much taste. There is a great profusion of 
 ornament. Fountains send forth their clear and 
 refreshing streams, sparkling in the sunshine; and 
 many statues well worthy attention are dispersed 
 through the grounds. There is a drive of upwards 
 of a mile ; on either side of which rise hedges of 
 box, growing luxuriantly, and clothed with a bril- 
 liant green throughout the winter months. 
 
 This is the Pope's winter residence, being the 
 warmest and most delightful of the three. He 
 seldom appears in public, never except to attend 
 
ST. JOHN LATERAN'S. 217 
 
 some procession, or to minister at some church. 
 During six months he did not leave the precincts, 
 except to be present one day at the " Gesu."* His 
 extensive gardens combine all the advantages of 
 the country. There he walks and drives, seen by 
 no eyes except those of his cabinet and household. 
 In this there is much worldly wisdom. For a 
 person of the sacred character of his Holiness to 
 appear often in public, would be to diminish the 
 high feeling of veneration in which his office is 
 held. Such a feeling is ever nourished and in- 
 creased by keeping the object which excites it 
 buried in the cloister, and concealed from human 
 eyes ; just as the priests lock up the relics, and 
 expose them only once or twice a year. 
 
 The Lateran Palace is a large square building, 
 and is the oldest of the papal residences. It was 
 the seat, also, of some memorable Councils. It is 
 situated in an unfrequented part of the city, and 
 is by no means a favourite with the modern Popes. 
 It contains some immense apartments, which are 
 well finished ; but it yields in every respect to the 
 Vatican. It adjoins the basilica of St John Late- 
 ran's. There are fine views from it, amongst which 
 
 * The reader must remember that the author here speaks of 
 Gregory XVI. 
 
 L 
 
2J8 THE QUIRINAL PALACE. 
 
 not the least interesting are the ruins in the 
 neighbourhood. That noble monument of other 
 days, the Colosseum, and some of the temples of 
 the Capitol, are well seen. Albano lies to the 
 south, crowning the summit of the hill, abounding 
 in rural beauty and scenery of wood and water, 
 more than any of the neighbouring villages. The 
 mountains also add their dark forms to the land- 
 scape, every crag lighted up at noon by the Italian 
 sun, or casting their shadows over the plain as 
 day melts into eve. 
 
 This is the most retired palace of all, and would 
 suit well with a studious, unambitious mind. If 
 any Pope should turn misanthrope or hermit, no 
 doubt he would select it. All the neighbourhood 
 is peculiarly exposed to malaria ; it is said to be 
 seldom without it. This is the chief reason why it 
 is not much used. 
 
 The Quirinal is the most modern, as well as the 
 most beautiful, of the palaces of the Pope. It 
 occupies the summit of the Quirinal Hill, or, as it 
 has been named by the moderns, Monte Cavallo. 
 It is situated in the heart of the city, of which 
 it commands the completest view. A large and 
 lofty front looks towards the south-west, ap- 
 proached by handsome steps and a fine portico, 
 
THE QUIRINAL PALACE. 219 
 
 from which a most extensive wing runs towards 
 the east, fully 250 yards long. This great extent 
 of building — in fact, in itself a town — encloses a 
 garden laid out in modern taste, full of flowers and 
 fountains, the circuit of which is one mile. The 
 rooms are gorgeously fitted up, and are almost 
 without number. Indeed, everything about this 
 palace evidences the utmost neatness and finish. 
 It is a residence worthy of the wealthiest sovereign 
 of Europe, and is probably not surpassed in either 
 dimensions or design. Certainly no bishop ever 
 laid his head in a more royal dwelling. What 
 use the wilderness of walls can be to him, it is 
 difficult to say. He can only inhabit but a small 
 part ; so I suppose the pile rose into its present ex- 
 tent from the spirit of ostentation which seems to 
 direct every movement of the Pope, whether he 
 appears in the procession of St. Peter's, levels a 
 piece of the Pincian hill, or presents a mutilated 
 statue to one of the national museums. 
 
 This is the summer residence of the Pope. It 
 is very happily chosen, as, from its lofty site, the 
 sultry heats are tempered by the winds that blow 
 over the circle of hills which skirt the Campagna. 
 In the lower parts of the town, when the sirocco 
 prevails, the heat is excessive, and a languor and 
 
 L 2 
 
220 PRISONS. 
 
 aversion to exercise ensue. This is to some extent 
 avoided in the more exposed situations. Fever 
 also always stalks in the valleys, while the inha- 
 bitants of the higher streets are to a great degree 
 exempted. Independently of these advantages, it 
 was only fair to place the Pope upon the loftiest of 
 the seven hills — the Quirinal. It looks like a 
 citadel, viewed from various quarters of the city, 
 only that it has more of the pacific appearance 
 than is usually to be found in those buildings 
 which crown commanding eminences. At all 
 events, whether it be useful or otherwise, it is a 
 handsome addition to the buildings of Rome, and 
 the chief ornament of that part of the city in which 
 it is placed. 
 
 Very different is the state of papal Rome from 
 that of the early commonwealth, when the poet 
 describes it — 
 
 " Sub regibus atque tribunis 
 Viderunt uno contentum carcere Romam." 
 
 The prisons in the city now are both numerous 
 and formidable; and they are frequently not large 
 enough for defaulters. This argues a diseased 
 state of society, of which the chief cause is the 
 wretched system of government which exists, — that 
 suffers its principal duties to be engrossed by the 
 
POPULATION OF ROME. 221 
 
 internal affairs of the Church, and bestows but 
 little time upon the condition of the people or the 
 welfare of the country. 
 
 It seems a problem to discover how the mass of 
 the lower orders maintain themselves. They are 
 ever idly disposed, and seldom occupied. To be 
 sure, their wants are satisfied at a small price, 
 where both wine and bread — the common food — 
 are cheap and abundant. But dishonesty gene- 
 rally prevails, and the wealthy, no doubt, without 
 either their knowledge or assent, contribute to 
 their subsistence. One great cause of the idle 
 habits which characterise the peasantry and the 
 populace is the frequently occurring festivals of 
 the Church. A week seldom passes over with- 
 out two or three ; upon which the shops are closed 
 and all business suspended, — the only active indi- 
 viduals to be met with being the various orders of 
 the priesthood, from the cardinal to the curate. 
 On these days they lie in the sun like the lazzaroni 
 at Naples, or t{ carpunt diem " in playing the game 
 of pallone. The ceremonies of the Church are the 
 chief concern, and everything else is but of second- 
 ary importance. 
 
 The consequences of this system are everywhere 
 visible. Agriculture is neglected, the people in a 
 
222 STATE OF THE COUNTRY. 
 
 wretched condition ; the level and rich plains which 
 stretch away from the walls to the mountains are 
 deserted ; not a field is to be found in a state of 
 tillage, with the exception of the gardens and 
 grounds of the few villas which lie contiguous to 
 the city. Though in summer these plains are un- 
 healthy, nature has endowed them with great 
 fertility, and they would be capable of producing 
 the vine or the olive in profusion, and corn for the 
 supply of the city. But these truths escape the 
 notice of all, and the only tenants of the extensive 
 Campagna are a few herds of buffaloes. The eye 
 will not rest on a farm-house for miles ; the only 
 symptoms of life and animation are the shepherds 
 and the flock. Not a tree is to be seen over this 
 wide surface watered by the golden Tiber and 
 many tributary streams, where the chestnut might 
 supply the wants of thousands, or forests be reared 
 for the fuel of the inhabitants. 
 
 It would look as if the open country lay exposed 
 to the incursions of banditti or wild beasts, as is 
 the case in an African colony, and that all fled for 
 refuge to the towns. This supposition, however, 
 is without foundation, as the robbing system is on 
 the wane in Italy. The people want enterprise, 
 because they want encouragement. They are still 
 
POLICY OF GOVERNMENT. 223 
 
 active and intellectual where occasion calls for it. 
 And if the government, instead of wasting the 
 finances upon the embellishment of churches, would 
 promote rewards for industry, or improve the in- 
 struments of husbandry, and protect the well-dis- 
 posed, the aspect of the country would soon 
 undergo a beneficial change, the state obtain a 
 better class of subjects, while the advance in in- 
 dividual happiness would be such as a numerous 
 population have a just claim to, and would surpass 
 the expectation of the most sanguine. 
 
 Such results, however, I fear, must be hoped for 
 in vain. The Church is the dial that regulates 
 everything in this land. It is a fixed star, — itself 
 incapable of change or amelioration, — which has 
 transferred its unyielding nature and properties 
 to other institutions. There is nothing so much 
 dreaded in Rome as novelty. Novelty or change 
 in agriculture or commerce would probably produce 
 novelty in opinions, and thus lead to novelty — to a 
 reformation of religion. Hence, to the prejudice or 
 caution which sways the Papal cabinet, it seems 
 far better to leave the country in its present miser- 
 able state, than, by improving it, run any hazard 
 to themselves or their Church. Consequently, the 
 only harvest that they reap, and will be likely long 
 
224 PRISONS AND PRISONERS. 
 
 to do, are political commotions and general depra- 
 vity. It is this system that fills the gaols, replen- 
 ishes the galleys, and does not suffer the execu- 
 tioner's hands to be idle for lack of employment. 
 
 Rome ought to be, and probably is reckoned by 
 many unacquainted with it, a model for other 
 countries in the management of its institutions, 
 and in the order of its population. Where religion 
 is borne upon every breeze, and a clerical vestment 
 brushes your coat every ten minutes, a moral feel- 
 ing may be thought to run through society, and to 
 regulate the practice of all. The prisons, however, 
 never empty, tell a different tale. It is very unplea- 
 sant, in passing through the streets, to see the 
 objects that are cooped up in them, crowding to 
 the windows for air, and in some cases asking a 
 baiocco of the passengers, as if their keepers do 
 not sufficiently supply the wants of nature. 
 
 The dress of the convicts and prisoners is a 
 coarse striped cloth, and in most cases they are 
 fettered two by two. The able-bodied who are 
 under sentence of confinement for life, or a less 
 term, are engaged in the public works. They 
 generally have their offence written upon their 
 backs. To one who asked something of me as I 
 passed, and who looked sufficiently miserable, I 
 
PRISONS. 225 
 
 gave a small coin, but felt very unpleasant when 
 in walking away I read the word " Homocidio" 
 upon his back. 
 
 There is a large prison in the Strada Giulia ; 
 another on the south bank of the Tiber, near the 
 church of Santa Maria in Trastevere ; one on the 
 Via Ostia, near the church of St. Paul's ; an ex- 
 tensive one at the CampidogHo, mostly for political 
 offenders. The Castle of Saint Angelo, formerly 
 the mausoleum of Adrian, is also used as a prison. 
 There is another as you enter from the San 
 Lorenzo road. This is pretty well for a popula- 
 tion not amounting to an hundred and fifty thou- 
 sand, and proves incontestably the state of society 
 under the paternal government of the Popes. 
 
 Italy, although full of beauty, has been always 
 full of crime. It is well described by the poet as 
 a land " where all is fair but man," The banditti, 
 which rendered it dangerous to pass through the 
 open country, especially by night, are now nearly 
 extirpated. To Lambruschini's and his prede- 
 cessor's vigorous exertions this happy event is 
 owing. He has annexed capital punishment to 
 many of those offences to which his countrymen 
 are prone. It is said, that if a robbery takes place, 
 and blood is drawn in the fray, no matter how 
 
 L 5 
 
226 PRISONS. 
 
 small the property taken or the blood spilt, the 
 offence is expiated on the scaffold. This improve- 
 ment is particularly visible in the neighbourhood 
 of Rome. There are, however, several wild tracts 
 where the hardy mountaineer fearlessly stops the 
 passenger. The Romans, however, are at the 
 present day far superior to their neighbours the 
 Neapolitans. Owing to the weak or injudicious 
 government of that kingdom, the trade of the 
 brigand nourishes ; and when it suits him he stops 
 the diligence, and lays the passenger under tri- 
 bute, by paying which, if he escapes more serious 
 injury, he may reckon himself fortunate. 
 
 The gaols in Rome are filled by all the hues and 
 phases of crime ; but possibly the jealousy of those 
 in power has incarcerated a considerable number 
 for giving too much freedom to liberal opinions, or 
 who had been actually engaged in those petty 
 political movements which have of late taken place 
 in the States of the Church. 
 
ENGLISH CHURCH. 227 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ENGLISH CHURCH. — TOLERATION. — CONTRAST BETWEEN TCSCANY 
 AND ROME. — COLLEGES. — COLLEGE OF THE PROPAGATION OF THE 
 
 FAITH. — ENGLISH, IRISH, AND SCOTCH COLLEGES. GHETTO. 
 
 STATE OF THE JEWS. 
 
 Through the influence of that truly liberal states- 
 man Cardinal Gonsalvi, now no more, permission 
 was obtained to have an edifice for the celebration 
 of the Church of England service, for the purpose 
 of supplying the wants of the numerous British 
 subjects occasionally sojourning at Rome. It was 
 situated in the Corso, the Regent-street of Rome. 
 It was generally looked upon with aversion, and, 
 although the population refrained from insult, it 
 was evident they felt displeased. This feeling, it 
 is clear, more or less extended through all classes ; 
 for upon Gonsalvi's death, and soon after the ac- 
 cession of the late Pope,* the English church was 
 closed, and unceremoniously thrust outside the 
 
 * Gregory XVI. 
 
228 TOLERATION. 
 
 walls. It is now situated outside the Porta del 
 Popolo. The city was too pure to suffer so errone- 
 ous a worship within its walls, so it is placed in a 
 remote spot, where it may no longer offend either 
 populace or priest. 
 
 Such is the toleration of Rome in the present 
 age ; and that to England, by whose blood and 
 treasure she was rescued from the grasp of France, 
 and to whose prowess she owes her existence as a 
 separate state. The present building is very plain, 
 and affords as great a contrast to the churches of 
 the national worship in its vicinity, as there is 
 between the respective religions. But though its 
 exterior hardly denotes its use, it is well attended. 
 The equipages that are drawn up at the doors on 
 Sundays are very numerous, and prove that our 
 countrymen are glad to avail themselves of the 
 privilege of calling upon God in common, bearing 
 into foreign lands that character of gravity which 
 belongs to them at home. 
 
 There seems to be no restriction inside, as the 
 preacher spoke very freely and fearlessly of the 
 ceremonies and doctrines of the Romish Church — a 
 subject which it is equally the duty and the interest 
 of the clergyman to enlarge upon, where there are 
 many minds to whom such things are novel and 
 
TOLERATION. 229 
 
 imposing. The Romish ecclesiastics are aware of 
 this, and, though they look upon them with jea- 
 lousy, I am glad to say they have recourse to no 
 other weapons but argument. In the church of 
 St. Andrea della Valle, as well as in some other 
 churches, sermons are preached by eminent men, 
 which generally during the Lent are of a contro- 
 versial character, but decidedly free from any vio- 
 lence or recrimination. They, no doubt, are meant 
 not to offend any ears, as it is possible some of the 
 auditory may be members of the Church of Eng- 
 land. Their arguments are calculated rather to 
 win than to wound. It is desirable to see such a 
 spirit abroad, and is gratifying to one that looks 
 back upon the red page of the Church history. At 
 the same time it is to be lamented that intolerance 
 should so far prevail, as to induce the government 
 to drive a pure Christian church, as if it were 
 a plague spot, from the city. It was neither pru- 
 dent nor wise. If the English Government had 
 acted in a similar manner towards its Roman Ca- 
 tholic subjects, no doubt the Roman See would be 
 the first to remonstrate upon the subject. With 
 this exception the English are highly favoured at 
 Rome, and by all classes. The name Inglese 
 admits to everything that is to be seen, and is 
 
230 CONTRAST BETWEEN 
 
 a passport to all society. It is the wealth pro- 
 fusely disseminated by English subjects that main- 
 tains the city. It is not improbable, as the Eng- 
 lish consul hinted to me, that grass would soon 
 grow in the thoroughfares if our countrymen did 
 not make their annual visit there ; it was, therefore, 
 an ill requital to offend them in that point which is 
 dearest to the heart of every man — his religion. 
 But the climate of Rome is so delicious, and the 
 land so lovely, that I fear, if the church were 
 closed, it would not be an insuperable barrier to 
 their annual winter sojourn. 
 
 The contrast between Tuscany and Rome, in a 
 variety of important particulars, is very marked. 
 The country is well cultivated, and the people 
 look contented and happy. We see no desolate 
 tracts like the Campagna, where nature is fer- 
 tile, but man is indolent;* no plains like those 
 
 * The author of " The Diary of an Invalid " says, speaking of the 
 indolence of the Romans, " The barrenness of the Campagna has been 
 attributed to the national indolence, which will not be at the pains of 
 cultivating it. But I believe it would be more correct to say, not 
 that the Campagna is barren because it is not cultivated, but that 
 it is not cultivated because it is barren J* and he then refers to Livy 
 (lib. vii. c. 38) to shew that in those days it was also sterile and un- 
 healthy. My opinion, from actual observation, is very different. 
 The soil is generally a rich loam of a dark colour, and in the spring 
 months is covered with verdure. That it is capable of producing 
 
TUSCANY AND ROME. 231 
 
 between Civita Vecchia and the capital, which 
 afford but scanty pasturage to a few buffaloes, 
 where corn and wine with very little care could 
 be abundantly supplied. Tuscany is not unlike 
 England. The land is divided into farms, upon 
 which the occupier dwells in a comfortable, and 
 frequently a picturesque house. Not a field is 
 suffered to lie waste, but in every direction the 
 wheat waves its green ear, and luxuriant meadows 
 are spread before the eye ; while the hedgerows 
 and divisions are planted with vines, bearing evi- 
 dent marks of skilful culture. The peasantry also 
 are well clad, and in general appear to be a 
 class far superior to those of either Naples or 
 Rome. 
 
 In the towns, also, the difference is equally 
 striking. None of that indolence in look and man- 
 ner is met with which characterises so many in the 
 streets of Rome. There is the bustle of business. 
 Idlers there are none; every one is employed. 
 
 abundance of corn there can be but little doubt. It only wants to be 
 subjected to the usual process of tillage. I admit that the tract is 
 more or less visited by malaria during the heats of summer, but this 
 would be mitigated, no doubt, by the plough, the atmosphere being 
 admitted to produce its purifying effects. Many tracts in Italy, simi- 
 larly situated, are injurious to health in the months of July and 
 August, but they are not on that account unproductive. 
 
232 CONTRAST BETWEEN 
 
 The sea-port, Leghorn, enjoys an extended com- 
 merce. There are no harassing duties ; hence the 
 products of other countries find free admission to 
 supply the wants of the Tuscans, while the great 
 national exports, oil and corn, are in constant 
 demand. The commercial pursuits in which the 
 merchants are engaged give employment to 
 a large number of persons, as well upon the 
 Arno and the canals as at sea. The buildings, 
 too, are constructed more for utility than ostenta- 
 tion; shops, stores, and arcades being far more 
 numerous than palaces. The money of the state 
 is not lavishly bestowed on the increase or embel- 
 lishment of churches which are not required, but 
 upon the improvement of the port and the develop- 
 ment of the country's resources. Lines of canals 
 run in various directions, and useful strade diferro 
 connecting the cities are already finished, while 
 more extensive works of the same nature are 
 spoken of. 
 
 The Grand Duke is a clear-headed and not a 
 narrow-minded man, who feels no hesitation in 
 adopting the improvements of modern times, and 
 introducing the fruits of skill and science into his 
 dominions. He lays no embargo upon enterprise; 
 and though such has ever been the policy of his 
 
TUSCANY AND ROME. 233 
 
 government, he runs no risk of having the esta- 
 blished order of things disturbed. The people are 
 eminently quiet. Sedition or political movement, 
 while it makes the Pope and the cardinals very 
 uneasy, and still threatens them, is here totally 
 unknown. 
 
 But in the point of toleration, chiefly, Tuscany 
 has much the advantage of Rome. The govern- 
 ment afforded every facility for building the Eng- 
 lish church ; no impediment was thrown in the 
 way. It is placed in the city, and, with the Cimi- 
 teriolnglese attached, is an ornament to it. How 
 desirable it is to see a Roman Catholic prince giv- 
 ing the example of toleration to the Roman See, 
 and not adopting the selfish policy of the latter. 
 It probably required some degree of courage to 
 do so, although it was only really carrying out 
 the enlightened principles long acted on in the 
 other countries of Europe. 
 
 And what is the consequence of the policy to 
 which I have referred ? The state has the seeds 
 of permanence implanted within it. Its various 
 institutions are deeply founded in the affections of 
 the people, and, as a consequence, general content- 
 ment prevails. The progress of Tuscany is just 
 in equal proportion to the decline of Rome. 
 
234 COLLEGES. 
 
 Whatever trade the latter has is daily falling off; 
 and the movement in the States of the Church, often 
 repressed, but as often breaking out again, proves 
 the precarious tenure of St. Peter's successors. 
 These attempts are indications of a diseased state 
 of things, the causes of which are deeply seated, 
 not so much in the framework of society, as in the 
 mode by which the country is governed. The 
 people enjoy no representation — have no voice 
 whatever in the public weal. Authority resides 
 singly in the breast of the Pope and in that of his 
 cabinet. The Italians look upon the free institu- 
 tions of England and France, and sigh for some 
 measure of liberty approximating theirs. What 
 also adds bitterness to their feelings and wings 
 to their exertions, is that they know that they are 
 the descendants of freemen, and they cannot but 
 account themselves as degenerate sons of a race of 
 heroes. 
 
 There are several Colleges at Rome, among 
 which the chief are the University, the Collegio di 
 Propaganda Fede, the English, Irish, and Scotch 
 colleges, as well as those of other nations. The 
 University is an extensive institution, and has the 
 usual number of professors. It has produced some 
 men of considerable eminence. Degrees are here 
 
COLLEGIO DI PROPAGANDA FEDE. 235 
 
 conferred upon the ecclesiastics of all countries. 
 It has also its library and museum. 
 
 The College of the Propagation of the Faith is on 
 an extensive scale. Its front extends towards the 
 Piazza di Spagna. In the construction, accommoda- 
 tion has been consulted rather than ornament. 
 Here there are professors of almost all languages, 
 in which young men are instructed for the ministry, 
 and sent upon foreign missions. The wealth of 
 this college is unbounded, and it is all expended 
 for the purpose of increasing the confines of the 
 Church. A cardinal resides in the house, and is 
 " prefect" or president, with a long string of 
 officers under him. The scholars vary from two 
 to four hundred, and are of all nations. I have 
 seen Jews of Asia Minor, Africans, and even a 
 Chinese, in the academical dress — a long gown 
 with a red border. I attended a rehearsal, which 
 takes place upon every Epiphany, in the theatre. 
 The youths had each a written subject, which 
 they, in their turn, read aloud to the audience. 
 The number of languages, to which some dialects 
 were, however, added, was forty-nine. Arabic, 
 Persian, Chinese, Hebrew, Irish, were among the 
 number. They acquitted themselves well, and 
 shewed how perfect is that system of education 
 
236 COLLEGIO DI PROPAGANDA FEDE. 
 
 which is pursued in the establishment. When 
 they are complete masters of the language, and 
 have received orders, they proceed upon their 
 mission, and, as they are generally accomplished 
 men, they are no doubt successful. 
 
 This college has ever been the favourite of the 
 Popes, and the great engine of conversion. It was 
 established for the very purpose of supplying a 
 superior class of ministers, not so much to combat 
 the positions of the Reformers, as to counterbalance 
 the inroads they have made upon the Church, by 
 fresh accessions in other lands. Hence, India and 
 the Pacific are supplied from this source; and, 
 from their knowledge of the tongues of the people 
 to whom they are sent, joined also to an acquaint- 
 ance with their character, we cannot be surprised 
 if they are favourably received, and that the cause 
 they have in hand progresses. I am surprised that 
 we have not taken a leaf from their book, and esta- 
 blished a similar institution, and for a similar pur- 
 pose. The idea is an admirable one, to have minis- 
 ters, as it were, of all nations, ready to take what- 
 ever post the exigency of the times, or peculiar 
 circumstances, demand. The Jews gave greater 
 heed to Paul when he spoke in Hebrew, and so 
 will every new people listen with attention 
 
THE ENGLISH COLLEGE. 237 
 
 to the teacher conversant with their native lan- 
 guage. The missionary often goes abroad, and 
 defers learning the language of the country 
 until he has arrived within its limits; a method 
 by which time is lost and trouble increased. 
 The true plan is that of the Propaganda. The 
 abilities of the pupil are consulted, and from 
 an early age he is required to give his sole atten- 
 tion to one of the eastern languages, so that he is 
 able at length to express himself as fluently in that 
 as in his mother tongue. They go upon their 
 missions with ardour, and fearlessly make their 
 way among savage and uncivilised people, as the 
 past and present history of this institution amply 
 attests. 
 
 The English College is situated in a small street, 
 entered from the Piazza Farnese. The exterior is 
 plain, but the house is large, and capable of accom- 
 modating a much greater number than usually 
 reside within its walls. It was very probably a 
 monastery, as the plan is in some respects the 
 same. It has its refectory and chapel — the latter a 
 small and simple building. The pupils do not 
 appear to amount to more than fifty, and are of a 
 superior class to those designed for the ministry in 
 Ireland. It is governed by a rector and vice- 
 
238 THE IRISH COLLEGE. 
 
 rector. They are generally chosen for their learn- 
 ing and abilities. Dr. Wiseman was rector when 
 elevated to a see. Dr. Baggs succeeded him, and 
 also received episcopal consecration at Rome in 
 1844. It is a highly respectable post, the possessor 
 of which frequently enjoys the confidence of the 
 Pope. The president of this College generally 
 calls upon the English residents. Dr. Baggs was 
 a gentlemanlike man, and took a pleasure in 
 offering his services to his countrymen. 
 
 There are some marble slabs in the hall, record- 
 ing the visit to the college of one or two Popes ; 
 and on the first lobby one is erected which men- 
 tions the visit of some of our royal family.* In 
 a recess, to the left of the entrance-hall, are seve- 
 ral ancient and curious monuments, collected, I 
 am inclined to believe, from various churches in 
 the city, where they lay unnoticed and neglected. 
 
 The Irish College is situated on the Monte 
 Cavallo, near the Villa Aldobrandini. It is tole- 
 rably extensive, and kept in good order ; but, from 
 the state of the furniture and apartments, the 
 revenues must be small. The pupils vary from 
 fifty to an hundred. The rector is Dr. Cullen, a 
 man of whose abilities and character I can fur- 
 
 * The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, if I recollect rightly. 
 
THE IRISH COLLEGE. 239 
 
 nish little information. There are other lecturers 
 in the college. The reason, probably, why these 
 young men are instructed for the ministry, when 
 they have Maynooth at home, is to supply a class 
 of teachers more elevated from mixing with the 
 world and society, and who have advantages of 
 becoming acquainted with the doctrines and dis- 
 cipline of the Church which are denied them at 
 home. 
 
 I think it is generally the case that the fo- 
 reign educated priest is the more polished gen- 
 tleman, and less likely to set his parish in a blaze 
 by dedicating a large share of his time and 
 labours to politics; because, being removed from 
 his country so long, in addition to other softening 
 influences, he shares his affection and allegiance 
 with Rome.* Whereas the Maynooth priest is 
 moved by every wave of political turmoil which 
 agitates the country. He imbibes along with 
 logics and "humanity" the pervading love of 
 agitation; and when he is liberated from the dis- 
 cipline of the college, it is no wonder that he 
 should become a prominent champion of the vi- 
 sionary grievances of that class from which he is 
 taken. As long as the priest is identified with 
 
 * Not the Church merely, but with the place and people. 
 
240 THE SCOTCH COLLEGE. 
 
 the peasantry, it will not be easy to guard 
 against this. His associations will always be with 
 that " stock from which he is hewn." Better 
 days would rise upon Ireland, and prospects of 
 true peace and happiness light up her horizon, 
 if the Roman Catholic gentry infused their blood 
 and their love of order into the priesthood. 
 
 The chapel of this college is a more ambitious 
 structure, and is dedicated to St. Agatha, though, 
 of course, with her festival that of St. Patrick's 
 holds an equal place. 
 
 The pupils are clad in a dress almost similar to 
 those studying at the Propaganda. They walk 
 through the city in a long file of two abreast, 
 accompanied by the senior scholar or the mode- 
 rator of the day. This order it is not necessary to 
 preserve outside the walls, and it is amusing to see 
 how willingly they forget the commands of the 
 professor on the Appian or Flaminian way. 
 
 The Scotch College is presided over by Dr. Grant, 
 a modest and unobtrusive ecclesiastic. The wants 
 of the Scotch are easily supplied, so both establish- 
 ment and pupils are on a small scale. The foun- 
 dation is laid, " principium est dimidium facti," 
 and it is probably fondly hoped that there will be 
 necessity for it's extension hereafter. 
 
GHETTO, OR JEWS' QUARTER. 241 
 
 The Jews are rather numerous at Rome,* much 
 more in number than it is likely they should be 
 found where they are exposed to exaction and 
 oppression. They inhabit a quarter upon the 
 banks of the Tiber, which is remarkable more for 
 the filth than the cleanliness of the people — for 
 poverty than wealth. There are gates upon it, 
 which from sunset to sunrise are closed upon the 
 luckless Israelites. They are not allowed to re- 
 side in any other part of the city; and recently an 
 order has been promulgated by the Pope,f to the 
 effect that they must not have Christian servants 
 or apprentices. This, I believe, results not so 
 much from an intolerant spirit, as from fear lest 
 the Jew should convert the Christian to his faith 
 a very unlikely thing. They are left to their cus- 
 toms within the Ghetto. No church has obtruded 
 upon its limits; but immediately opposite the 
 gate a church has been erected, over the door of 
 which is a large fresco of the crucifixion. The 
 church was probably built to receive any repentant 
 follower of Jacob ; but it was not good taste to place 
 the picture in such a locality, standing forth, as it 
 
 * In the year 1709 the Jews amounted to eight or ten thousand. 
 It is a question whether they come up to this number at present 
 At all events, they do not exceed it. 
 
 t Gregory XVI. 
 
 M 
 
242 STATE OF 
 
 were, to upbraid them with the death of the 
 Saviour. 
 
 In all other places restrictions have been re- 
 moved from the Jews, who have proved themselves 
 good citizens and valuable members of society; 
 but Rome alone beholds these restrictions renewed, 
 and the whole class exposed to annoying prohibi- 
 tions, according more with the genius of past 
 times than the milder influences of the present age. 
 It is a part of the weak and senseless policy which 
 has too frequently regulated the Papal decisions. 
 These people, instead of contributing by their 
 wealth and standing in society to the welfare and 
 permanence of the State, are kept from embark- 
 ing in any enterprise, and are consequently broken- 
 spirited and poor. The Jews in Germany are 
 amongst the wealthiest and the most respectable 
 of the inhabitants ; and it is a great error to ima- 
 gine that they are not attached to that order of 
 things which contributes to their prosperity and 
 happiness. 
 
 There are no indications whatever of affluence 
 among the Jews at Rome. There are some 
 mean jewellers'' shops, but the great majority 
 carry on a very inconsiderable trade in clothes, 
 old and new. The female portion of the families 
 
THE JEWS. 243 
 
 generally sit in the streets, and are engaged in 
 making or repairing garments. 
 
 The women are by no means prepossessing, and 
 inherit none of those charms which led Jacob so 
 long to serve for the fair Rachel. Their persons 
 are large and fat, and the features too plump and 
 round for beauty. The men are better-looking, 
 possessing frequently dignity and thought in their 
 countenances. The cast of features is not so de- 
 cidedly Jewish as we meet with elsewhere ; but the 
 reason of this seems to be, that the contrast with 
 the Italian face is less than with us. 
 
 From the situation of this little colony, as may 
 be imagined, every endeavour is made for the con- 
 version of its members. The missionaries employ 
 their tongues or their pens in the cause, but 
 seldom with any success. The attachment of the 
 Jews to the faith of their fathers is proverbial; and 
 it is by no means likely, if they were inclined to 
 change it, that they would adopt the religious sys- 
 tem they have before their eyes in the Eternal 
 City. The statues* that abound in every church 
 must be, on the threshold, an insuperable ob- 
 jection, he number of Jews who have embraced 
 Romanism has been limited, and, no doubt, will 
 
 * Or images of saints. 
 
 M 2 
 
244 STATE OF 
 
 ever continue so. Men will not so easily suf- 
 fer their prejudices to be offended, their simple 
 worship to be shocked, by so many competitors. 
 When the Jews abandon the Mosaic law, it will be 
 to embrace a religion consistent with the writings 
 of the Prophets, whose meaning they may at 
 length learn that they have misunderstood. Where 
 they see its fulfilment and its observance, when 
 their understandings are enlightened, we may 
 naturally conclude they will attach themselves. It 
 is said, however, that occasionally a converted Jew 
 is baptized at St. John Lateran's, but I did not hear 
 of very many instances. Another plan is some- 
 times had recourse to. If Jewish children are 
 occupied in the city at trades or otherwise, their 
 minds are imbued with the Roman Catholic doc- 
 trine ; and if induced to assent, they are at once ad- 
 mitted to the Church by baptism, no regard being 
 paid to the remonstrances of parents or friends. 
 
 Although the Jews are cooped up in this quar- 
 ter, aud certainly shew no signs of affluence, they 
 look happy and contented. The women sing at their 
 occupations, while their open faces betray no un- 
 easiness of heart ; the children play with each 
 other, and their frequent and merry laughs are 
 signs of well-supplied and quiet homes. 
 
THE JEWS. 245 
 
 It is to me a subject of wonder that the Jews 
 should remain at Rome at all, when so many coun- 
 tries would be willing to receive them. The 
 United States, or our own colonies, would be the 
 field for such industrious and well-ordered citizens 
 as they have always proved themselves. But 
 they, possibly, share with others that universal 
 principle, the love for the "natale solum." While 
 they keep in view the Canaan — their fatherland — 
 they cannot but look with affection on that which 
 constitutes their home, where are the graves of 
 their parents, the hallowed tombs of their friends. 
 And, though they have the marks of intolerance 
 about them and around them, the present times 
 see them on the increase rather than on the wane. 
 Kindred and familiar associations bind them toge- 
 ther and reconcile them to their lot. They prefer 
 the narrow compass of the Ghetto, with its filth 
 and confinement, to the rewards that industry 
 acquires in most lands — honour and affluence. 
 
 What singular interest attaches to this people, 
 scattered amongst all others without mingling with 
 them ! In all other instances that we are ac- 
 quainted with, the influx of strangers has been 
 incorporated with the population to which the 
 tide of events has borne it. But these remain 
 
246 STATE OF 
 
 single and separate, marked out themselves by 
 the peculiar stamp of their features ; they also 
 performing their part by the distinctive rite of 
 circumcision, evidently retained by the hand of 
 Providence for other times and other fortunes. 
 It was unnecessary for the Pope to make this 
 separation stronger by placing them in a sort of 
 quarantine; they would not have mingled with his 
 people, although he wished it But he has served 
 to make more significant some of the passages 
 from the prophetic writings, although that was 
 in nowise his object. 
 
 Rome remains the only state where those foolish 
 and fanatic laws remain in force, which visit upon 
 the expatriated Jews the crimes of their progenitors. 
 Other kingdoms formerly pursued the same course, 
 during those times when the exiled Israelites were 
 persecuted with unrelenting severity; but their 
 present conduct is a palliation of their former 
 offence against the laws of humanity and nature. 
 The Jew has assumed throughout Europe the po- 
 sition to which intelligence and integrity always 
 exalt the possessors. Their conduct, equally un- 
 obtrusive and honourable, has proved the conclu- 
 sion of those who thought that they could only 
 cabal against Christianity, to be absurd, and has sig- 
 
THE JEWS. 247 
 
 nified to the world that they are among the most 
 valuable members of society, as tending to im- 
 prove it by their persevering industry, as well 
 as to preserve it by their peaceable demeanour. 
 
 The method pursued at Rome must defeat the 
 object it has in view, as oppression is seldom 
 known to proselytise : conciliation should be the 
 first step, and not a line of conduct full of harsh- 
 ness and suspicion. The sun has set upon them, 
 and the liberty which the remaining population 
 of Rome enjoys is unknown to them, until revisited 
 by its rising beams. The Tiber flows past their 
 dwellings, itself unshackled in its course, — an em- 
 blem of that freedom which is the heritage of man, 
 — as it were, calling upon them to assert it here, 
 or seek it in other climes. How changed is Rome 
 of the present day in this respect as well as in 
 others ! The city of universal empire granted 
 free toleration to the religions of other nations, 
 and even admitted the objects of their worship 
 to the Pantheon; reckoning it the same great 
 Spirit diffused through all things, and reigning 
 through all time. But modern Rome, domineer- 
 ing and despotic, hesitates to afford the common 
 conveniences of life to that very people who for 
 countless ages held the unity of the Godhead 
 
248 THE JEWS. 
 
 uncorrupted and inviolate, amid surrounding igno- 
 rance — the asserters of religion when it was else- 
 where but a name, and the parents of their own. 
 They enjoy personal liberty in but a small degree, 
 and no municipal privileges. These things the 
 Jews bear with patience, following in -their fathers' 
 steps, waiting with a firmness of faith, which nei- 
 ther persecution, nor coldness, nor cruelty can shake, 
 when Providence shall have fulfilled the times, 
 and overcome the difficulties which stand in the 
 way, for them to enter the promised land, where 
 rest the bones of Jacob and Joseph, and whither 
 their hopes centre, and their affections tend, as 
 to an earthly paradise. 
 
ORDINATION. 249 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 ORDINATION AT ST. JOHN LATERALS. CEREMONIES. FESTA DI 
 
 ST. GIUSEPPE. — LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. FIGURES AND FRES- 
 COES. — CHURCH AT LUCCA. — COSTUME. — PICTURE EXPRESSIVE 
 OF THE POWER OF THE VIRGIN. 
 
 The ceremonies which take place at St. Peter's 
 on Easter Sunday are continued, but the scenes 
 are shifted to St. John Lateran's. The early part 
 of the morning is devoted to the charitable office 
 of the baptism of heretics. Sometimes a Jew is 
 found willing to embrace the Roman Cattiolic 
 religion, or perhaps some foreigner, when at the 
 hands of the bishop he receives the sacrament. 
 No heretic, however, was to be found upon the 
 morning I attended, to the great disappointment 
 of many spectators, as well as myself; but high 
 mass was celebrated with all the pomp and splen- 
 dour with which it is usually accompanied in one 
 of the Roman basilicas. At its conclusion the 
 largest ordination of the year always takes place. 
 The candidates were very numerous, amounting 
 
 M 5 
 
250 ORDINATION AT 
 
 to more than a hundred. They were not confined 
 to natives, but the various countries in communion 
 with Rome sent some of their representatives. 
 
 The part of the church where this ceremony, or 
 sacrament, takes place, is the oratory to the right, 
 where the cathedral service is usually chaunted. 
 There the candidates were seated, looking as 
 pious and orderly as the occasion seemed to re- 
 quire. The regular and secular clergy were min- 
 gled ; some with the crown " shaven and bare," 
 and others with nature's head-dress unmutilated. 
 They wore simple surplices only: the investiture 
 of more sumptuous vestments is reserved for a 
 •further period of the ceremony. 
 
 One cardinal bishop only attended. He wore 
 his mitre, and was seated in the chancel as he 
 administered the rite. Several priests stood by 
 his side, who also placed their hands on the pos- 
 tulant's head, when he meekly knelt for admission 
 as one of the shepherds of the Church. 
 
 Perhaps the sitting posture in the bishop is 
 more significant, as tending to represent that au- 
 thority with which he is invested ; although there 
 is no lack of means to declare this to both clergy 
 and laity, in the church of which the Pope is the 
 supreme head. The form of words that was pro- 
 
ST. JOHN LATEKAN'S. 251 
 
 nounced was very brief, but was repeated over 
 each candidate. On two several occasions he 
 approached his Eminence: at the first, the vest- 
 ment which is indorsed with the cross was placed 
 upon his shoulders. He then retired to his place, 
 evidently fully impressed with the responsibilities 
 of the station which he had assumed. Subse- 
 quently he again appeared in the chancel, where 
 he presented the palm of his right hand to the 
 bishop, who then poured some of the sacred 
 chrism from the anointing cup into it. The at- 
 tending priest, his chaplain probably, immediately 
 placed the other hand over it, and taking a small 
 white napkin from a bundle that was provided 
 near him, he tied them both together: with this 
 handcuff the young priest retires again to the 
 seat he had occupied in the oratory. He con- 
 tinues in this posture for hours, until, I suppose, 
 the chrism has worked its expected effect, or till 
 it has been absorbed by the animal heat. 
 
 I should not have been surprised if the bishop 
 had anointed candidates upon the head, which 
 was the ancient and usual method ; but I am at 
 a loss to discover the intention of anointing the 
 hand. Perhaps it was a hint taken from the 
 school of the gladiators, who oiled their arms, 
 
252 ORDINATION AT 
 
 hands, &c, that their bodies might be more pliant 
 for the struggle, and that they might slip more 
 easily from the grasp of their opponents. So this 
 would signify that he should be prepared for con- 
 troversy — ready to grapple with any adversary who 
 might hurl a "negative" in the clerical arena; and 
 then it would contain a hint that, if hard pressed, 
 he could retire, as there would be no danger of 
 his antagonist being able to hold him in his grasp. 
 
 No doubt the act may be significant, and this, 
 or some such conjecture, may explain it. Per- 
 haps it is done, founded upon the well-known 
 fact, that, as oil cast upon troubled waters soon 
 reduces them to a quiescent state, so they should 
 regard their ministry in the same light, checking 
 schism in the Church, as well as quelling tumult 
 in the state. If this be the true interpretation, 
 it were well for the sister country if many of her 
 priests were ordained at Rome. As to schism, 
 it probably does not exist to give them any un- 
 easiness; but political movement, and the evils 
 following in its train, would fall still-born but 
 for the decided part taken by the Maynooth priest. 
 
 But I am inclined to believe the real cause of 
 this rite is to impart a sanctity to the hands 
 which are to hold the host in consecration. Such 
 
ST. JOHN LATERALS. 253 
 
 an opinion might follow from the belief in tran- 
 substantiation. It were well adapted to impress 
 upon the young priest the idea of his own im- 
 portance, as the act itself he is destined to perform 
 raises him in the estimation of the people. That 
 the host is of so sacred a nature, that he should 
 not venture to touch it with common hands; but 
 it requires the blessing of the bishop, in addition 
 to the ordination and the chrism of the Church, 
 to adapt them for the high duty : so much amongst 
 Roman Catholics is religion reduced to externals. 
 The ceremonies— the mass — all speak in the same 
 language. To have a true spiritual church, it 
 were better to receive the Saviour in the heart 
 than in the hand, and to anoint with heavenly 
 influences the former rather than the latter. The 
 heart is the test in all things. In the dealings 
 of life, in the intercourse of society, if that is 
 not steady and sincere, all is hollow and deceit- 
 ful, although it be wrapped in specious pretexts. 
 Devotion is the heart of religion, shewing itself 
 in pure doctrine and conduct, and pulsates as 
 strong and as warmly, although the body that 
 meets the eye be in modest garments, and without 
 the aid of ornament. 
 
 On the 19th of March, the festival of St. Joseph 
 
254 FESTA DI SAN GIUSEPPE. 
 
 is kept in some of the churches. There is no- 
 thing remarkable in the services of the day to 
 distinguish it from any other anniversary, but va- 
 rious preparations are made for it in the streets 
 and squares of the city. Booths, or, I should 
 rather call them, sylvan huts, are hastily erected, 
 composed of a few poles driven into the earth, 
 covered tastefully with evergreens. Stripes of 
 ribbon or calico are interspersed, so that the sim- 
 ple edifice shews some indications of the taste 
 diffused through the people. It thus forms a shop 
 in the open air. The viands exposed for sale 
 are fish — a species of sprat found plentifully in 
 the Tiber. They are fried in lard. A charcoal 
 fire is kept burning, on which the grease and 
 fish are constantly bubbling. These the people 
 purchase in great quantities, and eat with avidity. 
 I should esteem it in some degree a religious 
 duty or custom to do so, and not alone to satisfy 
 the cravings of appetite. The groups eating this 
 homely fare — the Italian cook — and the hut of 
 green boughs, form an object quite picturesque, 
 and would have been a morceau for the pencil 
 of a Teniers or an Ostade. The scene contrasted 
 well with the buildings in the neighbourhood. It 
 was in some degree the " rus in urbe." 
 
ST. JOSEPH. 255 
 
 The victuallers' shops (this appellation applies at 
 Rome principally to the venders of pork and sau- 
 sages) are also dressed for the occasion. The 
 verdant leaves of the box or of the evergreen oak, 
 hanging amidst candles, butter, and salt fish, as if 
 they were the fruits, testify that the festival is duly 
 honoured. , It is not improbable that of all the 
 festivals of the Church this is the most welcome to 
 these useful citizens, as they seem to do tenfold 
 more business on it and the following days than at 
 any other period. The poor artisan, who on other 
 occasions rarely exceeds the wretched " vino as- 
 ciouto" and "pane nero" makes shift at this time to 
 add fish, salt or fresh, to his fare. While the more 
 comfortable housewife is to be met ever hurrying 
 home from market with her scaly prize. 
 
 From what I have mentioned I think it is con- 
 clusive that St. Joseph must have been a fisher- 
 man, and that the universal custom of eating fish 
 on this day is to commemorate his early occupa- 
 tion. The husband of Mary was a carpenter, it 
 would not therefore seem that he was the object of 
 their regard. The Roman calendar is very exten- 
 sive, and saints of the same name occur more than 
 once. Or, further, it may be an opinion founded 
 upon tradition, that some period of St. Joseph's 
 
256 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. 
 
 life was, like many of the apostles, dedicated 
 to the simple and meditative life of a fisherman. 
 
 It is a curious fact, that so many of the apostles, 
 out of the small number of twelve, should have 
 been engaged in this occupation. But, probably, of 
 all the employments which engage mankind, there 
 is in it least room for any of those passions 
 which are likely to disturb the equanimity of the 
 mind. With the humble fisherman envy has no 
 place. The possessions or power of others he nei- 
 ther covets nor regards. None of those ambitious 
 motives which, more or less, influence most minds, 
 have any place in his bosom. He is bred up to 
 patient endurance, and looks to the will of Provi- 
 dence to give its blessings into his hands. The 
 state of life is daily shadowed before him ; disap- 
 pointment often falls to his lot, and hopeful pros- 
 pects remain unfulfilled. Thus his spirit is sub- 
 dued within him, and reconciled to the similar 
 events of life. 
 
 Nature also exhibits to his mind objects of inter- 
 est and beauty — the calm ocean, the sunbeams 
 gilding its surface, or the moon rising in glory from 
 its depths, clothing the landscape with its softer 
 light. These are apt to excite reflections in his 
 mind calculated to soothe the asperities within, and 
 
FIGURES AND FRESCOES. 257 
 
 to divert the passions from the sway which they 
 assume, to contemplation of the benefits of cre- 
 ation, and of the beneficent hand of which they 
 all bear the undoubted impress. The water also, 
 gliding away before his eyes with unceasing flow, 
 would seem to be a type of his existence, never 
 tarrying in its progress, but hastening till its 
 waters are lost. in the boundless ocean; while the 
 wave that ripples at his feet, now proudly raised 
 with its crest of foam, and the next moment broken 
 and scattered on the shore, not inaptly figures the 
 vanity of human hopes, and the issue to which they 
 lead. This mode of life is full of instruction, 
 while it is free from those temptations which, like 
 parasites, are indissolubly connected with the vari- 
 ous arts or callings of men. These may probably 
 be some of the reasons, if we may venture to as- 
 cribe any, why the Saviour, turning from all other 
 ranks of men, chose his companions out of this 
 humble and unnoticed class. 
 
 The statues in some of the churches in 
 Rome, more particularly in those a little re- 
 moved from the walls, are by no means of high 
 finish. The efforts of the best artists have been 
 enlisted for the purpose of adorning the metro- 
 politan churches ; but we occasionally find some 
 
258 FIGURES AT LUCCA. 
 
 figures within the sacred precincts which would 
 accord better with the air of the Appenines or an 
 unfrequented village. There is a wooden figure of 
 some saint in the church of St. Paul's on the Via 
 Ostia, which, from its dilapidated state, cannot, in 
 my opinion, be any aid to devotion. Whether the 
 disease that has attacked it is time or dry rot, it 
 has lost much of its resemblance to the human 
 face. The nose has nearly disappeared, the fingers 
 are worn away, and the figure itself has lost some 
 feet of its height. But perhaps it is esteemed 
 more venerable from its years, for it occupies its 
 niche as usual, and probably will do so while it 
 holds together. 
 
 I could mention many others, but at present 
 will take the reader for a few moments to Lucca, 
 to observe something of the same nature. 
 
 Superstition seems to flourish at Lucca with as 
 strong a growth as in any other part of the Italian 
 continent, and ignorance to prevail to an extent 
 perhaps unequalled in the country districts of 
 Rome or Naples. The Virgin is peculiarly the 
 object of adoration, and but few of the saints seem 
 to share the honours of the people with her. As 
 usual, the churches contain everything of interest 
 or importance. In an extensive church, situated 
 
COSTUME. 259 
 
 near the palace, which is the parish church of the 
 Gran Duca, there are, as you enter, two small 
 apartments, one on each hand; in both of which 
 are figures well carved, of wood, and painted, 
 representing something from the Scripture history. 
 To the left- is a representation of the Cruci- 
 fixion. On the right is the Virgin clothed in a 
 dress of great magnificence, with " il bambino 
 Gesu" upon her knee, and St. Joseph kneeling in a 
 posture of adoration, and presenting both his arms 
 to the infant Saviour. These figures are as large 
 as life, and, though very old, as carvings, may rank 
 the first of the second-rate. Nothing can be more 
 extraordinary than the dress of all the three. The 
 Virgin wears a gilt crown upon her head, and is 
 elaborately adorned with necklace and rings. Her 
 stomacher is gilt, and gold appears occasionally in 
 various parts of her attire, which is evidently of the 
 highest fashion of the time. The front of her dress 
 ends in a peak like some of the present day, and 
 the gown is ample and flowing. But the most 
 striking part is a frill upon her neck, very stiff and 
 projecting, reminding one strongly of the portrait 
 of our own royal Elizabeth. 
 
 Joseph is dressed also in the fashion of the day, 
 and, but for the absence of the wig, would be a 
 
260 COSTUME. 
 
 complete gentleman of the court of Charles II. 
 His coat is of grey cloth, and buttoned up to the 
 chin, and is of that shape that we denominate 
 a frock. He wears also an enormous frill, and 
 has fringes of lace at his arms. Knee-breeches, 
 stockings, and a pair of high-heeled shoes, with 
 silver buckles, complete the portrait of Santo 
 Giuseppe, according to the taste of the monk 
 milliners of the Luccan church. 
 
 The present instance shews us how erroneous it 
 is, in pictures or representations of this nature, to 
 disregard the history and costume of the period 
 that belong to the subjects, and to arrange them 
 in the uncertain dress of the painters' times. If 
 this rule is not adhered to, unity is lost, and what 
 the pieces probably acquire in positive art, they 
 forfeit by these extraneous additions. The more 
 simple, and according with truth and taste, is the 
 drapery of pictures, so much the less chance has it 
 of being considered anomalous amid the necessary 
 changes of time and things. The absurdity is suf- 
 ficiently obvious, of arraying a personage belong- 
 ing to a past age in the fashions of our own. Our 
 own lives are frequently long enough to see them 
 changed and forgotten ; and the more we advance 
 from the date of the work, the more irrecon- 
 
FRESCOES. 261 
 
 cileable is the difference. If a statuary of the 
 middle ages had left us an Augustus, or an Apollo, 
 with a full-bottomed wig and knee-breeches, we 
 moderns should not admire either his judgment or 
 discrimination. The costume of the present day, 
 perhaps, does not well accord with the dignity of a 
 statue, but, I think, chiefly from this reason, that it 
 will probably outlive the period when that costume 
 shall have declined. More suitable is the simple 
 toga of the Romans. It has precedent, beauty, 
 and our associations in its favour. 
 
 Several of the churches and monasteries at 
 Rome have their walls covered with fresco paint- 
 ing. In the majority of cases they are well exe- 
 cuted, and will repay the trouble of examining 
 them. But in some quarters of the city we find 
 the Virgin painted at the corners of the streets; 
 and in other localities some religious subject 
 traced upon the walls, to remind the wayfarer of 
 the future and its objects. Near the Piazza SS. 
 Apostoli you will find a fresco of purgatory. The 
 flames are burning fiercely, and several persons are 
 expiating their sins in its torturing pains. They 
 are tossed on a sea of fire, and its lurid light makes 
 them appear unearthly, and miserable in the ex- 
 treme. I, however, saw a picture elsewhere, more 
 
262 PICTURE AT THE 
 
 remarkable than any to be found in the Eternal 
 City, which deserves some notice here. 
 
 Leaving the square at Lucca, which contains 
 the cathedral, built with alternate pieces of black 
 and white marble, I entered a long and narrow 
 street, and when I had traversed it for about half 
 a mile, I suddenly came upon the ancient and 
 massive church of San Martino.* The church 
 was undergoing some repairs, so I did not see it 
 to the advantage that I could have wished. It 
 contains some pictures by the old masters, several 
 altars as usual, and a few monuments. But the 
 object that struck me most, and deeply arrested 
 my attention, was a fresco painting on the west 
 end, and on the outside. It so completely repre- 
 sents the effect and intention of the Roman 
 Catholic religion, that I cannot forbear detailing 
 it minutely here. 
 
 The Virgin is represented inflicting corporal 
 punishment upon the youthful Jesus. She holds 
 a rod in her hand, with the other she holds the 
 garments of the child. She is in the act of in- 
 flicting punishment. The child is in alarm, and 
 its eyes are eagerly directed to St. Anna, the 
 
 * I am not certain whether this is the saint to whom the structure 
 is dedicated. 
 
CHURCH OF SAN MARTINO. 263 
 
 mother of the Virgin, in the background, entreat- 
 ing her intercession to escape the cruel ordeal. 
 The look of the Virgin is not that of affection, but 
 has the stern and harsh appearance which we 
 might imagine a schoolmistress to have when en- 
 gaged in a similar occupation. Under the picture 
 is written in very legible characters, " Jure matris 
 regejilio" 
 
 This picture is better executed than those which 
 are generally to be found at the corners of the 
 streets, or on the outside of the churches. It is 
 the most remarkable, and in its subject one of the 
 most daring, that I have seen, and contains within 
 its compass much of the spirit that is infused into 
 the Roman Catholic church. Considering that the 
 Saviour came into the world, and was born of a 
 virgin, — that he took the nature of man upon him, 
 — they infer that he was not only subject to the 
 infirmities of that nature, but with its sorrows was 
 liable also to its sins. The book of the Scripture 
 was either closed, or told a tale to unwilling ears, 
 that " he was holy, harmless, undefined, and sepa- 
 rate from sinners ; " and, of course, as he was free 
 from the sins of human nature, he must have been 
 also from the punishments with which earthly pa- 
 rents visit the violation of duty. We are told, 
 
264 AUTHORITY OF THE VIRGIN. 
 
 indeed, " that he was subject unto them,*' and 
 continued with them ; but we hear from the same 
 unerring authority, that his life was as spotless and 
 perfect even then, as his source was undeniably 
 holy and divine, for he daily " increased in wisdom, 
 and in favour with God and man." But revelation 
 was to be set aside, and reverence violated, to 
 serve an object ; and so we find the Virgin Mary 
 here exalted at the expense of the Saviour. The 
 awful reverence with which God dwelling in the 
 flesh should be contemplated is here transferred 
 altogether to another object. The argument which 
 the representation is designed to inculcate, and 
 the feeling they wished to produce on the mind of 
 the beholder, was, that as mother she possessed 
 more power than the Son (He, by whom all things 
 were made), and so, more than Him, was entitled 
 to the regard, fear, homage, and worship of the 
 Christian world. 
 
 The effect of such subjects in painting, and ex- 
 hortations of the same nature from the pulpit, are 
 very evident. The addresses to the Virgin equal, 
 if not exceed, those to the Almighty. Their affec- 
 tions are constantly directed to her by pictures 
 and emblems in the churches, the streets, and 
 their houses. A seaman caught in one of the 
 
AUTHORITY OF THE VIRGIN. 265 
 
 white squalls of the Mediterranean, and hurried at 
 the will of the wind, considers his spiritual exer- 
 cises completed when he has devoutly recom- 
 mended himself to the care of the Virgin. When he 
 relinquishes the helm in alarm, his calls are upon 
 " la madre di Dio;" and if he is permitted to out- 
 live the fury of the tempest, and to revisit his 
 native valley, or the town where he first drew 
 breath, his first care is to discharge his vow to" his 
 patron, whether it consist of tapers, a gratuity to 
 the clergy, or a picture representing his disaster 
 and escape. 
 
266 THE COLOSSEUM; 
 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 the colosseum. — its extent. — is consecrated. — illumination 
 of st. peter's. 
 
 Of all the ruins to be found in Rome, the most 
 stupendous is the Colosseum. The mind is pre- 
 pared for no such spectacle as these rich remains 
 afford. Wonder and admiration at the mighty 
 genius which could devise so noble a plan, and 
 complete it in a manner so as to outlive the wreck 
 of the city and the empire, are the spontaneous 
 feelings of every beholder. The area occupies the 
 space of nearly six acres — so much does it exceed 
 the amphitheatres yet remaining in other Italian 
 cities. The shape is an oval ; the greatest 
 length is 620 feet, the greatest breadth 513 feet. 
 It is built in several tiers of arches, each diminish- 
 ing in size. The stories were four, each orna- 
 mented with a different order of architecture. The 
 lower arches formed the places for admission, and 
 communicated with the galleries which led to the 
 various seats, set apart for senators, patricians, 
 
ITS MUTILATION. 267 
 
 or plebeians. It had no roof, but an awning was 
 drawn over in unfavourable weather. 
 
 From its being built with exceeding care, and 
 with stones of great magnitude, it is well calculated 
 to resist the effects of time; accordingly, its chief in- 
 jury hasnot come from thence. The Vandal and the 
 Goth seem also to have spared it ; and it contained 
 nothing which would be likely to excite the fury or 
 fanaticism of the iconoclast. Its mutilation is to 
 be ascribed only to the inhabitants themselves. 
 This surpassing structure, the " monumentum cere 
 perennius " of the architects of old, was reckoned as 
 a common quarry where Popes and princes might 
 find materials for their churches and palaces. The 
 Barberini palace,* an extensive pile, is altogether 
 built with materials procured from this source, as 
 is also the Farnese. 
 
 It was that dark age and those times of igno- 
 rance when taste slumbered, and that narrow spirit 
 was abroad which esteemed it meritorious to sink 
 all the records of other days in the glory of the 
 Church. The triumph of the latter in their judg- 
 ment was complete, when the pillars of the temple 
 of Jupiter Stator adorned the interior, and the 
 arches of the Colosseum strengthened the walls, of a 
 
 * This has given rise to the caustic expression — 
 
 " Quod non fecerunt barbari, fecerunt Barberini." 
 
 n2 
 
268 THE COLOSSEUM. 
 
 church of St. Peter or St. John. It is this spirit 
 that has anticipated the work of time, or rendered 
 its operations more complete. These may be found 
 to be the reasons why in such a city as Rome — 
 which Augustus left of marble — so few striking re- 
 mains, temples, or monuments are to be found at the 
 present day. It was not the workmanship that was 
 inferior or the material perishable, for the moderns 
 do not either build so well or so durably. The bricks 
 in Nero's house, and in some parts of the great 
 sewers that pass under the city, seem in as good 
 preservation as if they had been but lately laid. 
 Their buildings were like their fame — for all time; 
 and the former had come down in all the freshness 
 of the latter, but for the Bceotic taste of the prince- 
 bishops of Rome. 
 
 At length a Pope was found occupying the chair 
 of St. Peter's, but unfortunately for art in very 
 modern times, with a mind somewhat more en- 
 larged than that of his predecessors. The Colos- 
 seum was consecrated by Benedict XIV.,* as the 
 most effectual means to preserve it from further 
 injury. Interest, probably, as well as a regard for 
 the beautiful in art, induced him to put a stop to 
 
 * This took place about the year 1 750. It was placed under the 
 protection of the martyrs, who had there proved the sincerity of their 
 belief by the testimony of their blood. 
 
THE COLOSSEUM. 269 
 
 the practice I have alluded to. By this means 
 almost one half of the amphitheatre has been 
 brought down to us in a tolerable state of pre- 
 servation. The succeeding Popes have repaired 
 the breaches made by accident or design, and the 
 attention of the government is directed to its pre- 
 servation with as much ardour as former Papal 
 cabinets shewed in its destruction. 
 
 Although the fabric is so massive, from its being 
 constructed in a circle of arches, it looks light 
 and elegant. The height in that part which yet 
 remains entire is very great — 157 feet. Some 
 evergreens and rock plants have struck their roots 
 among the stones, or twine their branches over the 
 few seats that are left, adding rather than taking 
 from the beauty of the ruin. The Colosseum 
 looks to particular advantage by the brilliant moon- 
 light. As it flows through the arches, the shadows 
 are cast upon the ground or the opposite wall, 
 forming an unrivalled network. The still hour is 
 in keeping with the scene ; and the lamp of night, 
 the most fitting guide to the building, whose glory, 
 like that of the triumphal arches surrounding it,*is 
 on the decline.* 
 
 * " The moonbeams shine 
 
 As 't were its natural torches ; for divine 
 
270 THE COLOSSEUM. 
 
 • 
 
 Three crosses are now erected in the middle of 
 the arena, representing the events of the Crucifixion. 
 The Colosseum, as I mentioned above, has been 
 consecrated, and vespers are said in it occasionally. 
 The main object of this coup de main was to pre- 
 serve it, as it would be now as great a sin against 
 the Church as it formerly was against taste, to 
 plunder a single stone. I bent my footsteps, one 
 evening, to gaze on this record of the imperial days, 
 as the red rays of the setting sun were imparting 
 their warm glow to the western landscape. Its 
 parting light still lingered upon the loftiest wall, 
 when a party of Franciscans entered, and pro- 
 ceeding to the cross, chaunted the service of the 
 Church. Every one in the building was upon 
 his knees ; all was silent as the surrounding 
 
 Should be the light which streams here, to illume 
 This long explored but still exhaustless mine 
 Of contemplation. — 
 
 It will not bear the brightness of the day ; 
 But when the rising moon begins to climb 
 Its topmost arch, and gently pauses there, — 
 When the stars twinkle through the loops of time, 
 And the low night breeze waves along the air, 
 • The garland forest which the grey walls wear, 
 Like laurels on the bald first Caesar's head, — 
 When the light shines serene but doth not glare, —   
 Then in this magic circle raise the dead. 
 Heroes have trod this spot — 'tis on their dust ye tread." 
 
 Byron. 
 
SERVICE OF MONKS. 271 
 
 rains, save the voice of the priest uplifted in 
 prayer. While the evening cast its shades around, 
 and the light slowly departed, it seemed like a 
 temple that barbarism had stripped and profaned, 
 while the priest, befriended by the coming night, 
 stole hither to celebrate within the sacred precincts 
 the service of his god. 
 
 What changes come over human things ! How 
 altered by the inroads of time and the force of 
 circumstances are various objects ; applied to pur- 
 poses as foreign from the design of the founders as 
 anything human may be. Vespasian erected this 
 massive pile as an arena for the trial of strength, 
 where the contest of the gladiators, the stake being 
 victory or life, might be viewed by the assembled 
 populace of Rome. There the lion from the forests 
 of Africa was enlarged to contend with the monarch 
 of the creation, to pander to the public taste. The 
 times of succeeding emperors saw the Christian 
 take his stand in this bloody field, driven to mar- 
 tyrdom in a useless struggle against brutal strength. 
 Thousands, who had espoused the cause of the 
 great Regenerator of mankind, sealed their testi- 
 mony by " the last ebbing drops " of life in the 
 unequal encounter on the very spot before us, 
 or were compelled to uplift their hands in the 
 
272 THE COLOSSEUM. 
 
 combat which they had foresworn, in defiance of 
 that creed of universal love, by the power of their 
 heartless persecutors. The arena of the Colosseum, 
 now as fair as the sand washed by the sea wave, was 
 for years the ensanguined plain of Christian martyr- 
 dom; it was the red grave to thousands, who, in the 
 early ages of the Church, bore with firmness and un- 
 shrinking fortitude the terrible ordeal, sustained by 
 the hope of the happiness and reward that were in 
 reserve. But now how complete is the triumph of 
 the cross ! It is uplifted above this field of blood, 
 and the heart's sacrifice is frequently poured to 
 Him, whose majesty was once insulted in the same 
 place by the slaughter of his followers. The 
 struggle against truth has been fruitless, and the 
 descendants of those citizens of Rome number 
 themselves among its proudest assertors now. Man 
 may seem to have the upper hand for a while, but 
 God always rules in the end. 
 
 What a contrast there is now over these dark 
 and deserted walls. The shout of the mob, the 
 yell of gratification resounds no more ; nor is the 
 air riven by the cry of agony, or the last shriek of 
 despair, to be drowned again by the tumultuous voice 
 of the barbaric thousands,* who deemed their city 
 
 * The wounded combatant dropped his weapon, and advancing to 
 
THE COLOSSEUM. 273 
 
 the centre of civilisation, and themselves the ar- 
 biters of mankind. Now all is silent, as still and 
 as lifeless as the tomb — the air barely moved by 
 the evening zephyr, as if Nature held her breath as 
 she trod the memorable scene. The bells of some 
 religious house only break the spell, as they fall 
 upon the ear, mellowed by the distance. The 
 arena is empty, the gladiators are gone, no longer 
 taken from their "Dacian home" "to make a Roman 
 holiday" — serving no purpose now but a memorial 
 of cruelty and crime.* The benches are deserted, 
 
 the edge of the arena, supplicated the spectators. If he had fought 
 well, the people saved him ; if otherwise, or as they happened to be 
 inclined, they turned down their thumbs, and he was slain. They 
 were occasionally so savage, that they were impatient if a combat 
 lasted longer than ordinary without wounds or death. — Note 61 to 
 canto iv., Childe Harold. 
 
 * How well Milton depicts the Roman character in these lines : — 
 
 " That people victor once, now vile and base, 
 Deservedly made vassal ; who once just, 
 Frugal, and mild, and temp'rate, conquer'd well, 
 But govern'd ill the nations under yoke, 
 Peeling their provinces, exhausted all 
 By lust and rapine ; first ambitious grown 
 Of triumph, that insulting vanity ; 
 Then cruel, by their sports to blood inured 
 Of fighting beasts, and men to beasts exposed ; 
 Luxurious by their wealth, and greedier still, 
 And from the daily scene effeminate." 
 
 Paradise Regained, book iv. 
 n5 
 
274 THE COLOSSEUM. 
 
 which were so often crowded by imperial and patri- 
 cian guests. The seats used by the common 
 people are broken by time, or tenanted by coarse 
 weeds, and the green branches of the willow and 
 the box. They are the haunts of the bat and the 
 owl, ever housing amid decay and desolation. As 
 the moon slowly asserts her reign over the heavens, 
 casting her mild beams on the temples of the 
 Forum, with all the softness of a fostering hand, 
 as if it sympathised with the ruin, whose records 
 are strewn like autumnal leaves in that celebrated 
 spot, it enters the arches of the solitary pile, and 
 appears to linger in its course, as it adds to the 
 beauty and sublimity of the scene. 
 
 The Colosseum has looked upon the changes 
 of eighteen centuries. It has outlived its use, and 
 descended to our times as a mark only to discern 
 the past. Kindlier influences have had their 
 effects upon the rugged passions of men. Amuse- 
 ment is no longer gathered from blood, nor asso- 
 ciated with slaughter and tears. That pile has wit- 
 nessed a more enlightened age, and objects and 
 instruments of truer gratification disseminated 
 abroad. The press has scattered knowledge upon 
 every wind, yet scarcely with sufficient celerity to 
 answer the thirst with which it is received. For 
 
THE COLOSSEUM. 275 
 
 the eyes was the feast provided then : now it is the 
 mind that is the spectator, and the heart the 
 handmaid. It was sensual then, it is intellectual 
 now. The spirit of benevolence has become univer- 
 sal ; and while the Supreme Being is recognised 
 and served, the inhabitants of distant and different 
 climes look upon each other as united by the ties 
 of brotherhood and blood. The wings of commerce 
 have united them to each other ; not sailing be- 
 yond the sea for a freight of slaves, but introducing 
 the blessings of civilisation in its course. 
 
 When the Colosseum was founded, the value of 
 time was not known ; it is now only that it is appre- 
 ciated and felt. There all classes might lounge and 
 idle hour after hour, and acquire no knowledge 
 capable of softening or improving the heart. They 
 might become more resolute or more brave, but it 
 is by no means certain that they became better or 
 more virtuous citizens. But now the distribution 
 of time has become a duty. To squander it heed- 
 lessly entails certain loss. If knowledge is power, 
 so time, happily applied, is the gymnasium where 
 it is acquired. Men in the present day give their 
 leisure hours to health, the rest to the business 
 and duties of life. 
 
 A grand illumination of St. Peter's takes place 
 
276 ILLUMINATION OF 
 
 upon the evening of every Easter Day. Prepara- 
 tions on an extensive scale are made for it, and no 
 expense is spared. It is really a magnificent spec- 
 tacle, of which no idea can be formed from what 
 we are accustomed to consider an illumination. 
 No lights are placed in windows with undeviating 
 uniformity, but even in this the Italian taste, always 
 sustaining its character, has found matter for the 
 display of originality and genius. 
 
 Thousands of lamps are prepared, and placed 
 upon every detail of the unrivalled church. They 
 are placed upon the lofty Corinthian columns, and 
 skilfully applied to the capitals. The facade re- 
 ceives them in rich profusion. They are elegantly 
 stretched upon the roof. The vast dimensions of 
 the dome are covered ; the ball above it has them 
 in circles ; and the cross, elevated in mid air, seen 
 from the Sabine to the Etrurian hills, has attached 
 to it a suitable number. The gigantic colonnades 
 stretched on either side of the piazza possess them 
 in long and regular lines. All this preparation is 
 made for some days previous to Easter. It is a bu- 
 siness- attended with the greatest danger to those 
 employed, from the great height of parts of the 
 building to which they must ascend. So perilous 
 is it, that the custom is always observed to admi- 
 
ST. PETER'S. 277 
 
 nister the sacrament to the men before they 
 ascend. Accidents do sometimes occur, but, from 
 the caution generally taken, they are now much 
 guarded against. 
 
 As the shades of evening begin to creep over 
 the sky, and the vault above to assume its sable 
 garb, these countless lamps are lighted simultane- , 
 ously. With all the speed of the lightning's flash 
 they suddenly glitter before the eye, that is 
 equally surprised and delighted with the novel 
 scene. It looks like a new creation, whose instan- 
 taneous birth it has witnessed. St. Peter's, in its 
 immense extent, is one blaze of light, the perfect 
 outline, traced in fire, standing out against the 
 dark night. Streams of light are encircling the 
 dome, giving a perfect idea of its shape and size. 
 The ball stands forth in bold relief; and above all, 
 the emblem of Christianity glitters as if it were 
 studded with diamonds of matchless lustre, or as 
 if the stars had descended from their courses to do 
 it homage ; from its exalted position reminding one 
 of the cross that is said to have appeared to Con- 
 stantine in the sky, accompanied with the words 
 'Ei/ tovtm vitca. The brilliant light falling from 
 the lamps upon the two exquisite fountains, which 
 eject into the air so large a volume of water, gives 
 
278 ILLUMINATION OF 
 
 a hundred different tints to the descending spray ; 
 the struggling foam appearing white as snow, while 
 a soft, but subdued melody falls upon the ear. 
 
 The surrounding gloom, made more apparent by 
 the swift advance of night, throws the figure of the 
 church out in all its beautiful proportions, con- 
 vincing us, probably, more strongly than any day- 
 view, of the great height and extent of the build- 
 ing. The effect is different at various distances. 
 It is truly splendid as viewed from the piazza, the 
 whole neighbourhood lighted as if by the evening 
 sun. As you retire to the bridge of St. Angelo, or 
 to the more remote parts of the city, glimpses 
 of the temple are obtained full of grandeur and 
 loveliness. From the Pincian hill, which is raised 
 like a wall to the east of the city, it looks like a 
 palace of stars, far more beautiful than all the 
 imaginings of poets or dreams of romance. It is 
 the personification of ideal beauty, an object which 
 the mind can look at with pleasure, and feel its 
 thoughts borne away to realms of spirits, leaving 
 the earth with its sombre hues and shadows far 
 behind. The calm night of Italy, with the balmy 
 air barely fanned by the wind that has careered 
 through the waste of the Campagna, and just 
 enough starlight to point out the bold outline of 
 
ST. PETER'S. 279 
 
 some ruin still battling with time, are in unison 
 with the feelings, as we gaze with silent attention 
 across the crowded city and the murmuring Tiber 
 to the sacred mount of the Vatican. To the 
 waking sense it is like a dream, where fancy has 
 been the architect ; but the " baseless fabric " is 
 touched with a pencil of light, and finished by 
 undoubted reality. The scene is so new and un- 
 expected, that it leaves its luminous outlines as 
 strongly printed on the memory, as the figure of 
 St. Peter's itself is on the gloomy sky. With me, 
 at least, it is one of the last objects that it will re- 
 tain, being still one of those prominent spots that 
 will remain developed when the other impressions 
 of a southern clime will have altogether declined. 
 
 It is said, and I believe truly, that the illumina- 
 tion takes place principally to gratify English eyes. 
 This, with the many other interesting sights, draws 
 a large concourse of strangers to Rome, who leave 
 a considerable sum of money behind them. It be- 
 comes a matter of some difficulty at this season to 
 procure lodgings or accommodation at the hotels, 
 and I have seen more than one family passing the 
 entire day in the carriage, as it rested, loaded with 
 baggage and mud, in the Piazza di Spagna. On 
 Easter evening, when the lighting takes place, the 
 
280 ILLUMINATION OF 
 
 large space in front of St. Peter's is completely 
 filled by equipages, waiting for the torch to be 
 applied. Pedestrians run some risk of being run 
 over in the narrow streets, for they rarely have the 
 protection of footways or the advantage of lamps. 
 The Pincian hill, which is on a different side of 
 the river from St. Peter's, and nearly two miles 
 from it, is also crowded, and mostly by our country- 
 men and women. From this spot the colonnades 
 are lost, and the church looks diminished some- 
 what in size, but the view is otherwise very perfect 
 — presenting not an absolute blaze of light, but 
 tracing with wonderful accuracy, by the just dispo- 
 sition of the lamps, the various parts of the building. 
 The illumination continues during the greater 
 part of the night, which, as it advances to the 
 midnight hour, rather adds to the effect by the 
 deeper gloom of the sky. Although the lamps are 
 countless, no accident occurs. They do not take 
 fire; and so skilful are those employed at this work, 
 that St. Peter's neyer sustains any injury. The 
 practice certainly endangers the edifice ; and when 
 it is considered what time it took in building, and 
 the vast sums that have been expended upon the 
 work, as well as the natural pride with which it is 
 looked upon by all classes, it is matter for surprise 
 
ST. PETER'S. 281 
 
 that the Government should not altogether avoid 
 the destructive element. But, no doubt, the plan 
 pursued is the very best that could be devised 
 under the circumstances; and everything is pre- 
 pared of course for such a contingency. However, 
 St. Peter's is constructed so admirably, the walls 
 are so thick, and the roof so solid, that the hazard 
 of danger from fire, either from within or without, 
 is not great. Wood enters but in a very small 
 degree into its construction, not even the doors 
 being of that material, but of bronze. 
 
282 CASTLE OF ST. ANGELO. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 CASTLE OP ST. ANGELO. — IL GIRANDOLA. — OBJECT OF PUBLIC 
 REPRESENTATIONS. — THE CARNIVAL. 
 
 Upon the following evening the fire-works 
 which are displayed from the Mole of Adrian* 
 take place. II Girandola is a great favourite 
 with the Roman populace. The windows in the 
 houses of the neighbourhood fetch high prices for 
 the evening in question ; and the streets leading 
 to the bridge of St. Angelo, from which the most 
 complete view is obtained, are rendered almost 
 impassable by the crowd. The mausoleum of 
 Adrian is an immense circular building, and was 
 erected at the period when the Romans had im- 
 
 * In a dark period of five hundred years Rome was perpetually 
 afflicted by the sanguinary quarrels of the nobles and people — the 
 Guelphs and Ghibellines, the Colonna and Ursini. To this mischie- 
 vous purpose (of defence) the remains of antiquity were most readily 
 adapted. With some slight alterations, a theatre, an amphitheatre, a 
 mausoleum, was transferred into a strong and spacious citadel. I need 
 not repeat that the Mole of Adrian has assumed the title and form of 
 the castle of St. Angelo. — Gibbon's Decline and Fall, vol. iv. p. 445. 
 
IL GIRANDOLA. 283 
 
 bibed the spirit of Egyptian architecture. The 
 Popes have repaired and converted it to some use. 
 It is now the castle of St. Angelo, communicating 
 by a covered passage with the Vatican, by which 
 his Holiness can make a speedy retreat in case of 
 danger. Its situation is upon a gentle eminence, 
 placed opposite the bridge to which it gives its 
 name, and completely commanding the pass of the 
 river. A few cannon are turned towards the city, 
 to awe the inhabitants, should they be disposed 
 to become hostile or to be weary of Papal govern- 
 ment. It contains a guard of soldiers, and is the 
 place where the Papal standard floats in the air 
 upon the days which redound to the honour of the 
 States of the Church. 
 
 The erection of these fire-works is very expen- 
 sive. They are formed in various patterns on the 
 exterior of the castle. Rockets of every colour, 
 and almost without number, are prepared. At ten 
 o'clock at night the display commences, when the 
 works, wheels, &c. on the castle-walls are ignited. 
 They are on so grand a scale, covering such an 
 extensive surface, that they are really beautiful 
 objects. At some distance they look like charac- 
 ters of fire traced on the dark vault of the heavens. 
 What adds greatly to the effect, is the placid sur- 
 
284 IL GIRANDOLA. 
 
 face of the Tiber flowing beneath the walls. For 
 some hundred yards the blue or crimson light 
 is reflected upon the water, changing in hue and 
 intensity every minute; at one time an apparent 
 sheet of fire, at another the motion of the current 
 giving it the appearance of infinite circles of flame. 
 But the grandest display is reserved for the last. 
 The top of the castle, which I may call the crater 
 of the coming volcano, is filled with an amazing 
 number of rockets and other projectiles: said to be 
 worth some thousand scudi. These at about 
 eleven o'clock are launched from the summit into 
 the mid air, while an explosion takes place from 
 the same spot. The spectacle is magnificent, and 
 during its continuation equals the eruption of a 
 volcano, which I believe it is intended to represent. 
 Ten thousand rockets enter on their airy course, 
 traced as it is by a stream of light, when they one 
 by one burst, scattering to the elements their star- 
 like particles, and are succeeded by others to take 
 the same flight. The base remains a mass of lurid 
 fire, now for a moment slumbering, and suddenly 
 shooting forth again with renewed and resistless 
 force. The night behind looks black as ink, de- 
 fining with the utmost precision each rocket and 
 shooting flame. But probably the chief addition 
 
PICTURE IN THE FESCH GALLERY. 285 
 
 to the effect is from the glassy stream of the Tiber. 
 It reflects all the operations of the castle of St. 
 Angelo in a thousand different hues, and looks like 
 a broad path of light intersecting the city. The 
 gleam, as the works proceed, runs upon the water 
 with a rapidity which the eye can scarcely follow ; 
 and on either side the bridge the spectacle seems 
 renewed, illumining the whole way until it is lost in 
 the curve of the river. The towers of some of the 
 churches are revealed by the light, and the ma- 
 jestic dome of St. Peter's rises out of the gloom 
 like one of the Appenine summits descried at the 
 morning dawn, ere the mists have rolled away. 
 
 The people and the place formed just such a 
 picture as would have been worthy the pencil of 
 Gherardo de la Notte. The faces of every one 
 had that glare imparted by the light which is 
 so well expressed in the pictures of that painter. 
 But probably the appearance of the Roman crowd 
 on this occasion would have looked too unearthly, 
 and might have suited better with some myste- 
 rious subject or scene. The tints thrown by the 
 flame upon the features reminded me strongly 
 of Vaitrinck , s superb painting in the Fesch gallery, 
 which any one that has been fortunate enough to 
 see can never forget. It is the Flight into 
 
286 PUBLIC REPRESENTATIONS. 
 
 Egypt. Joseph leads Mary and the heavenly 
 child through a dark and trackless way, seated 
 upon an ass, while an angel flies along, just above 
 them, in an attitude of wonderful ease, holding 
 in his hand, to guide them on their journey, a 
 brilliant torch, the light from which falls upon 
 the faces of all three, disclosing the beauty of the 
 Virgin and the babe, and the fine Jewish cast 
 of Joseph's head, giving to all an appearance 
 perfectly life-like. 
 
 The balance of probability would seem to rest 
 in the opinion that these shows are provided by the 
 Government, not for the amusement of the people 
 alone, but also to engross that excess of spirits 
 which might take a course prejudicial to the esta- 
 blished order of things. This has ever been the 
 policy of despotic governments, or where the chief 
 power resides mostly with the crown. The atten- 
 tion which might be given to plot and enterprise, 
 like steam escaping from the safety-valve, is applied 
 in another and by no means formidable direction. 
 From these shows being annual, the people expect 
 them, and anticipate them with pleasure. Such 
 would seem also to be the object the emperors had 
 in view in providing the expensive entertainments 
 of the Colosseum. The hardy soldier and the 
 
THE CARNIVAL. 287 
 
 turbulent citizen were attracted to these fites, 
 and in the excitement of the moment were dis- 
 posed to forget the thirst of conquest and the 
 desire of plunder, as well as to be less sensible of 
 the dreams of freedom. Our Gallican neigh- 
 bours also require some such amusements. The 
 character of both these people is very different from 
 the British, both being excitable and volatile in no 
 small degree. These, or a direr alternative, emeutes, 
 become to them a necessary of life. To nature, 
 as well as to our happy constitution, which secures 
 sufficient liberty to every one, is to be ascribed the 
 sober and grave demeanour of Englishmen. We 
 may indulge the hope that they will continue to 
 keep the spirit that may abound, only to preserve 
 their fatherland, and to maintain their country's 
 honour. 
 
 The Carnival, as the name imports,* means a 
 season dedicated more than usually to the use of 
 flesh. It takes place in the week preceding Lent, 
 when, in consideration of the abstinence that is to 
 prevail, there is free liberty to eat, drink, and 
 be merry, in the widest sense. The theatre of the 
 
 * The word is formed of the Italian cam-a-vale, which Du Cange 
 derives from carn-a-val, by reason the flesh then goes to the pot, to 
 make amends for the season of abstinence ensuing. — Chambers' Dic- 
 tionary. 
 
288 THE CARNIVAL. 
 
 week's amusement is the Corso, which in its entire 
 length is given up to it. As in the case of some 
 of the greater processions, business is at a stand ; 
 the shops are converted into boxes, and every 
 window, from which a view may be had, is tastefully 
 arranged with carpets and drapery. These are let 
 out, and, in some instances, produce a rich harvest 
 to the proprietors. It may be well said that all 
 the inhabitants of Rome are to be found in the 
 Corso on these days. They are, however, a well- 
 conducted mob; and, owing to a plentiful sprinkling 
 of military and police, no irregularity occurs. The 
 clergy alone studiously stand aloof. They are 
 never to be seen ; in which they act prudently, as 
 the dress of some, the monks in particular, might 
 cause them to be mistaken for a portion of the 
 masquerade. 
 
 The Carnival is under the especial care of the 
 authorities. It is opened by the governor of Rome 
 and the senator. They drive through the Corso 
 in two of the most magnificent carriages I ever 
 saw, attended by servants in the richest liveries ; 
 after which formality the amusements begin. As 
 great crowds are attracted to the Corso on these 
 occasions, the jealous government betrayed their 
 fears of popular movement by the strong force 
 
THE CARNIVAL. 289 
 
 of military that were posted along the line. In 
 the Piazza Mitfganella, the Piazza della Posta, 
 and the Piazza Venezia' there could not have been 
 less than several thousand men, well accoutred, and 
 ready to act in case any " Viva constituziones" 
 should arise. The headsmen, ill-looking fellows 
 enough, with their formidable axes, were quite 
 sufficient of themselves to keep order. But, at the 
 same time, the admirable bands of each regiment 
 added greatly to the enjoyment of the day. 
 
 Masks are worn in profusion, and dresses, no 
 matter how grotesque, are met with at every step. 
 Men change their sex and put on women's apparel ; 
 and it is not unusual to see a gentle-dame with 
 a beard that has not been shaven for a week, or a 
 little abashed by a veritable moustache. Noses are 
 worn, and, from the shape of these excrescences — 
 imagination not nature being consulted — they give 
 a truly ludicrous appearance to the wearers. Old 
 women, with well starched caps and high-heeled 
 shoes, are seen driving gentlemen's carriages, 
 handling the whip with an energy quite foreign to 
 an elderly female. Ladies sit in their vehicles, 
 covering their dark tresses with an artist's white 
 cap, thrown judiciously on one side, or else clad in 
 the quaint costume of bygone times. Some of the 
 
 o 
 
290 THE CARNIVAL. 
 
 groups are excellent, both from the appearance they 
 make, and from their characters being so well sus- 
 tained. And then what adds a freshness to the 
 whole scene is the universal spirit of good-humour 
 which possesses all classes. Every one wears a 
 smile, and seems delighted with the spectacle. 
 
 There is, however, a great sameness in the way 
 the Carnival is eked out. Two lines of carriages 
 are formed in the Corso, one driving from the 
 Flaminian obelisk, near the Porta del Popolo, to 
 the Piazza Venezia, the other extremity of the 
 street ; while the other line proceeds in the oppo- 
 site direction. They thus at a slow pace consume 
 the day. Every window as well as every carriage 
 that passes is well supplied with the ammunition 
 of the Carnival — bon-bons and comfits. When a 
 carriage appears, the persons in the windows, per- 
 haps, recognise some one, and a well-directed fire 
 takes place, which, as in all engagements, is spirit- 
 edly returned. The window being the vantage- 
 ground, generally carries the day ; and the carriage 
 is glad to make a rapid retreat, the ladies and gen- 
 tlemen's dresses being well powdered with flour — 
 not gunpowder, and it being a difficult matter to 
 distinguish the colour of the carriage. The pedes- 
 trian is not exempted from these salutes ; and fre- 
 
THE CARNIVAL. 291 
 
 quently he is well pelted by the fair but pitiless 
 hand of some dark-eyed Italian. Carriages meet- 
 ing each other also often make an attack. It is 
 amusing to see them lying like vessels, deck to 
 deck, the missiles of confectionary flying from one 
 to the other like hail on a winter's day. It is often 
 no easy matter to decide the victor; but the usages 
 of war do not apply here, as the foiled adversary 
 retires with his chariot complete, and in the best 
 humour. When bon-bons are exhausted, flour is 
 used, which leaves the garments of the unlucky 
 passengers in a truly pitiable condition. 
 
 This puerile amusement is almost too much to 
 last for a week ; the first and last days are the 
 best, in the interim the excitement subsides. Upon 
 the day that concludes the Carnival there is a slight 
 variation. Every one appears at the approach of 
 evening with a lighted taper, and endeavours most 
 assiduously to extinguish that of every one else, 
 and to preserve his own burning. Those who 
 occupy the windows have also their wax tapers, so 
 that at this period the city looks as if it were illu- 
 minated ; but, from the successful efforts to put them 
 out, they diminish in number very quickly, and 
 upon the lapse of half an hour the twilight finds the 
 windows deserted, and the Corso almost empty. 
 
 o 2 
 
THE CARNIVAL. 
 
 Rome during the Carnival is perfectly unlike 
 itself. To see a city of churches and priests 
 giving itself up for seven days to sports absolutely 
 childish, agrees ill with the established order of 
 things, and leaves one at a loss how to account for 
 it. If the extravagant scene were enacted at Paris, 
 it had been quite in keeping with the place and 
 character of the people. But here in sober Rome, 
 and under the eyes of the Pope, the stranger is 
 astonished to find a large part of the population 
 conducting themselves as if they acknowledged no 
 restraint. I can understand the procession which 
 often takes place in public, for religion is its 
 ostensible object ; but the absurdities of the Carni- 
 val are only the exhibition of Punch on a large 
 scale, and very unsuitable, it would be thought, to 
 a place which consults in everything the dignity of 
 the Church. 
 
 The period, too, is ill chosen — the week that 
 ushers in Lent. Certainly the thoughts of the com- 
 munity can dwell but little upon the abstinence or 
 austerities of that holy season, while they have 
 the days of the Carnival, with its exhibitions and 
 its too probable immorality, to keep them engaged. 
 No preparation could be worse for religious duty, 
 and seems to be done in the spirit of those in 
 
THE CARNIVAL. 293 
 
 some countries, who provide a condemned crimi- 
 nal, at the time just prior to punishment, with the 
 most exquisite enjoyments, thinking his road will 
 be lightened more by levity and luxury than by 
 truer and more solid consolations. It is said that 
 a crusade was some time ago preached against the 
 Carnival, every priest setting his face against it ; 
 but so undisguised was the hostility of the people 
 to any movement of the sort, and so close their 
 attachment to their periodical enjoyment, that it 
 was considered prudent to abandon the attempt. 
 Authority, it was judged, might prove ineffectual 
 in such a case, and that it would be best to leave 
 the matter to public opinion, which generally is 
 found to abate whatever is inconsistent with the 
 spirit of the times. 
 
 There can be but little doubt that the Carnival 
 is the remains of an old Roman custom which has 
 been handed down from age to age, its origin 
 being forgotten or clouded in obscurity. It is not 
 improbable that it is the Saturnalia. Many of the 
 characters which marked it are common to the 
 Carnival. There is the same freedom, and the 
 same love of mirth. Their duration, also, is alike 
 — seven days. The Saturnalia took place in De- 
 cember; but it was an easy matter to alter to 
 
294 THE CARNIVAL. 
 
 February the time of their celebration. The heads 
 of the Church may originally have thrown no op- 
 position in the way of its observance, particularly 
 as the Roman people were called upon to forego 
 the objectionable Bacchanalia, as well as the bar- 
 barous shows and combats of the Colosseum. It 
 will be thus no honour to the Pope and cardinals 
 that they foster in their bosom a pagan custom. 
 
 Some would have it that it is self-interest that 
 reconciles the Government to the buffoonery of the 
 Carnival, as it tends greatly to support the city by 
 the influx of strangers from all parts of Italy. But 
 we should not hastily believe that such a motive 
 would afford sufficient reason for the protection 
 or forbearance of the Government. 
 
MODERN ROME. 295 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 MODERN ROME. POPULATION OP ANCIENT ROME. MALARIA. 
 
 PINCIAN HILL. THE CORSO. PALACES. — EGYPTIAN OBELISKS. 
 
 OSTENTATION OP THE POPES. MARKETS. FOUNTAINS. THE 
 
 TIBER. THE CAPITOL. FORUM. ARCH OF CONST ANTINE. 
 
 ARCH OF TITUS. — TEMPLES. — CONVENTS. CONCLUSION. 
 
 Modern Rome occupies but a small portion of 
 the original city ; it may be a fifth that is enclosed 
 by the wall which still remains, though it is diffi- 
 cult upon this subject to speak with absolute cer- 
 tainty. The present city touches the wall only at 
 the north, where it declines to the Tiber, but in 
 some other points it does not approach nearer to 
 it than two miles, the intervening space being 
 mostly filled with vineyards or villas of the Roman 
 nobles, which generally have ample grounds and 
 gardens attached. The city is chiefly confined 
 to the banks of the Tiber, which runs through it, 
 but it is far larger and more populous on the north- 
 east side. This is the quarter upon which stand 
 the Forum, the Colosseum, and the palace of the 
 
296 MODERN ROME. 
 
 Caesars, as well as the chief monuments of Rome. 
 Upon the opposite side lies the chief attraction of 
 the modern city, the church of St. Peter. 
 
 There is a general aspect of desolation as soon 
 as the frequented streets are left. You do not 
 find yourself in the country, but amongst old walls 
 covered with ferns and weeds, and crumbling into 
 further ruin. Lofty gateways, retaining in the 
 centre a mask or head, coarsely carved, and some- 
 times an inscription, remain in considerable num- 
 ber, leading no more to a sumptuous building, but 
 serving as the entrance to a field planted with a 
 few vines and reeds. Many an old pile meets the 
 view ; broken arches and prostrate towers, in many 
 cases so dismantled as to be subjects of but little 
 interest. The capitals of columns, friezes and 
 entablatures, are of frequent occurrence. Almost 
 every stone you tread on has its tale to tell, having 
 been once in use : u nullum est sine nomine saxum? 
 The peasants, meanly clad and few in number, 
 enter the city, or return from market; while on 
 the paved highways a few cars roll lazily along; or 
 a cardinal's carriage makes its appearance, the 
 high colours of both it and the rider contrasting 
 sadly with the graver hues which overspread the 
 neighbourhood. 
 
POPULATION OF OLD ROME. 297 
 
 It has been questioned, whether the population 
 that has been assigned to the palmy days of Rome 
 could have lived within the walls. I am inclined 
 to think that this opinion has been formed without 
 duly considering the habits of the people, at least 
 so far as we can judge of them by their successors. 
 Independently of the houses being lofty and com- 
 modious, they generally accommodate four or five 
 families. Each family occupies one tier of apart- 
 ments, and are numbered primo piano, secundo, ter- 
 tio, &c. In very few instances is one house appro- 
 priated to a single possessor. Thus, at least four 
 families would have inhabited the space which 
 in London is only sufficient for one. 
 
 In their private houses their chambers appear to 
 have been on a very small scale, as we see them at 
 Pompeii, and that in the best houses ; they could 
 have been very little larger than the bed that occu- 
 pied them. They spent but little of their time at 
 home. The ample chambers of the baths served 
 to collect the people together, not only for the 
 sake of ablution, but for amusement and conver- 
 sation also. The artisan probably worked at his 
 trade in the open air, as many do at present in 
 that mild climate, satisfied with the shelter and 
 comfort of a roof only at night. 
 
 o5 
 
298 POPULATION OF OLD ROME. 
 
 In further proof of the city of Rome having con- 
 tained the inhabitants ascribed to it by old authors, 
 we are to recollect that almost the whole space 
 circumscribed by the walls was occupied by houses. 
 The open spaces or squares seem to have been 
 few, and contracted in extent. The Forum Tra- 
 janum remains just as it was in the days of the 
 emperor whose name it bears. It is little more 
 than half the extent of Trafalgar Square. The 
 Forum at the slope of the Capitol, no doubt the 
 largest open spot in the old city, if we take the 
 dimensions from the temple of Jupiter Stator and 
 the arch of Severus, on to the triumphal arch of 
 Titus and the temple dedicated to Faustina, will 
 not be found larger than one of our modern 
 squares. Yet this is 
 
 " The forum, where the immortal accents glow, 
 And still the eloquent air breathes — burns with Cicero." 
 
 The temples were both numerous and magnifi- 
 cent, but the houses of the inhabitants, probably, 
 were as closely attached to them as the mean 
 dwellings of the moderns are to the palaces of the 
 present nobility. It must have been an immense city 
 when the streets were crowded with houses from 
 the Porta Lorenzo to the Ostia Gate — from the 
 Porta del Popolo to that of San Giovanni in Late- 
 
SUPPLY OF WATER. 299 
 
 ratio. Although the Romans indulged to excess 
 in the luxuries of living and dress, they had not 
 acquired the taste for suites of apartments. In this 
 respect utility alone was their object, not ostenta- 
 tion. Hence, if their descendants have handed 
 down to us their modes of living, which there seems 
 no reason to controvert, the city of Rome would 
 have contained as great a number of inhabitants as 
 a modern city four times its extent. 
 
 The houses of Rome are well and durably built, 
 but they lose greatly in appearance by being roofed 
 with red tiles. Very little wood enters into their 
 composition. The stairs are always of coarse black 
 stone or marble ; the chambers, also, being covered 
 with flat tiles of various patterns. They must be 
 much less liable to fire than ours, and, for the sake 
 of this advantage, we should do well to imitate them. 
 A fire might be kindled upon any part of the stairs 
 without any fear of injury. Accidents by fire are, 
 in consequence, almost unknown. 
 
 Nothing can be better than the supply of water ; 
 a stream is brought by pipes to every house, 
 which flows into a capacious cistern, that is com- 
 mon to all the families in possession. The method 
 of supplying the several apartments is very simple, 
 but peculiar to this city. A strong iron wire de- 
 
300 MALARIA. 
 
 scends from the window of each "piano" exactly 
 into the cistern ; upon this the vessel for drawing 
 the water traverses. It runs down by its own 
 gravity, and is drawn up again with the greatest 
 ease by a rope and pulley. 
 
 The ascent of some forty of these stone steps to 
 the apartments is a work of regular labour, and 
 very unlike the ease with which the parlour and 
 drawing-room are entered at home. Rooms on 
 the ground-floor are always considered unhealthy, 
 from deleterious exhalations which more or less 
 prevail throughout the year. It is the evil spirit 
 of malaria, which dwells in the Eternal City. The 
 palaces are all strongly vaulted underneath, and the 
 free exit and entry of air allowed ; in consequence 
 of which the first floor is frequently ten feet from 
 the ground. Malaria is not much felt during the 
 winter months, but in summer it is very active, 
 causing fevers in great abundance. It is not ne- 
 cessarily confined to the least cleanly or narrow 
 parts of the city, for the Ghetto, although the nar- 
 rowest and filthiest, is generally exempt from its 
 visitations. Malaria, however, be it owing to what 
 cause it may, is giving way before sanatory regu- 
 lations. The streets are now kept properly 
 cleaned, and Rome is no longer a disgrace, by the 
 
PIAZZA DI SPAGNA. 301 
 
 offensive filth which was suffered a few years ago to 
 accumulate in every place. The supply of water is 
 of great use in carrying off vegetable and animal 
 matter, and latterly the Government has forbid the 
 butcher to kill his beasts in the city — a wise pre- 
 caution, as the offal of the slaughter-house could 
 not be otherwise than prejudicial to the public 
 health in the warm climate of Rome. 
 
 The part of the city usually inhabited by the 
 English is the highest and best that could be 
 selected. The Piazza di Spagna is an open space, 
 having the best hotels to be found at Rome ; the 
 promenade of the Pincian hill being within the 
 reach of a few yards. None of those lanes, shock- 
 ing by their appearance and effluvia, are in the 
 neighbourhood, and it is a considerable distance 
 from the muddy stream of the Tiber, which is no 
 doubt an advantage. The Via Barberino, one of 
 the best streets, leads directly through the Porta del 
 Popolo to the agreeable drive of the Borghese 
 Gardens, or to the Flaminian Way. The Via 
 Condotti, the great mart for pictures and mosaics, 
 joins it to the Corso ; while the Strada di due 
 Marcelli conducts the tourist either to the open 
 country through the different gates, or invites his 
 steps to the wonders of the Forum. 
 
302 THE PINCIAN HILL. 
 
 A pleasant road has been constructed on the 
 Pincian hill. ' It is about an English mile in 
 length. It is kept in the best order, and is taste- 
 fully planted. As it is higher than the roofs of the 
 houses, the view of the city is the best that can be 
 had. The eye strays over a large mass of buildings, 
 containing little either novel or interesting. The 
 tiles give an old and dingy appearance to every- 
 thing. Numberless are the domes and towers of 
 the churches. But in the distance, far above all, 
 arise majestically the graceful proportions of St. 
 Peter's. The situation has been well chosen, upon 
 an eminence, just sufficient to display its beauties, 
 — not to make them too prominent. It is free, too, 
 from the fault which attaches to almost all the 
 public buildings in the Eternal City — that they 
 are crowded by mean hovels. The pillars of 
 Trajan and Antonine rear their elegant figures 
 into the tranquil air, bearing St. Peter and St. 
 Paul, who have long since dispossessed the impe- 
 rial occupants. The keys in St. Peter's hands, 
 the chosen emblem of Roman power, can be plainly 
 seen. Some glimpses of the Tiber are caught, 
 but they add nothing to the landscape. At the 
 back of St. Peter's the forms of some hills are 
 spread, which obstruct any further view. 
 
THE CORSO. 303 
 
 The Pincian is the place to see Roman life 
 upon Sundays or the gala-days of the Church. A 
 great number of equipages congregate there. The 
 prevailing taste is that of the cardinal — their livery 
 and coaches vieing with his gaudy hues. A long 
 string is formed, where you can observe the several 
 gradations of Roman nobility. They move along 
 at a funeral's pace, while the occupants enjoy 
 the warm sunshine and talk over the news of 
 the day. 
 
 Upon these occasions the ladies display their 
 charms to the best advantage ; I, however, can 
 say but little for the beauty of the Italian women. 
 It is, no doubt, hard to please an Englishman, his 
 eye being accustomed to such perfect standards at 
 home. The Roman ladies err on the side of em- 
 bonpoint. Their eyes are dark, but neither their 
 complexion nor their features seemed peculiarly 
 striking. I saw one handsome woman, but subse- 
 quently found that this was no exception to the 
 general rule, as her birth-place was England, hav- 
 ing been some time before united to a Roman 
 nobleman. 
 
 The principal street is the Via del Corso. It runs 
 parallel with the Tiber, and is almost the whole 
 length of the city on the north bank. Much 
 
304 THE CORSO. 
 
 higher opinions are formed of it than it deserves ; 
 it is scarcely so wide as the Strand at its nar- 
 rowest part. The shops here are the best in 
 Rome ; but the business and commerce of the city 
 are very circumscribed ; they do not surpass 
 those of a good country town in England. The 
 only activity that trade exhibits is in the sale of 
 pictures and mosaics and other works of art. 
 From the excellence that the inhabitants have 
 attained in these departments, native talent is 
 altogether directed to them, and a ready market 
 is always at hand. There are no manufactories; 
 the various wants of the populace are therefore 
 supplied from other sources. The people have an 
 air of listlessness, and are clearly indisposed to an 
 active life— faults engendered not so much by 
 their own natural habits or tastes, as called into 
 being by the reprehensible policy which rules the 
 affairs of the Church. They themselves set an 
 example of indolence, and assign half the week to 
 the anniversaries of saints, which produces its cer- 
 tain effects among all classes of society. 
 
 The Corso contains many fine palaces, the chief 
 of which are the Palazzo Borghese and Doria. The 
 first is very extensive, and, taking its many suites of 
 apartments and its rich decorations into account, 
 
PALACES. 305 
 
 would not be unsuitable for a crowned head. Its 
 gallery of pictures and statues is one of the best. 
 The possessor is an enlightened man, who takes 
 pleasure in opening his salons, not only to the 
 inspection of the public, but for the instruction of 
 those artists, foreign as well as native, who have 
 made the arts their profession. The gallery con- 
 tains many deservedly esteemed pictures, among 
 which are the " Sybil" of Domenichino, a " Cruci- 
 fixion" by Vandyke, as well as a host of others by 
 all the great masters. 
 
 The Doria palace is of a different construction. 
 Its appearance is light and elegant ; it is also a 
 considerable building, and contains a gallery rich 
 in works of art. There are here some superb 
 landscapes of Claude Lorraine and of Poussin. 
 The pictures of Rome are not usually of this class, 
 so that on that account they are well worthy 
 inspection. 
 
 Palaces abound ; there is hardly a street with- 
 out one or two — according to the wealth or taste 
 of the proprietor, an improvement or a disgrace 
 to the neighbourhood. The Palazzo Farnese 
 is a very fine square structure ; but one views it 
 with less pleasure, as it is mostly constructed with 
 the pillage of the rich remains of antiquity. It 
 
306 EGYPTIAN OBELISKS. 
 
 now belongs to the King of Naples, and his repre- 
 sentative at the Papal court resides in it. The 
 Palazzo Barberini, placed in a commanding posi- 
 tion near the Quirinal palace, possesses an im- 
 posing and elegant front terminating in two wings. 
 It is a noble edifice for a private individual ; but 
 the head of the house is guilty of a heavy sin, 
 which, in the opinion of the lovers of art at least, 
 the absolution of all the churches of Rome cannot 
 wash out. It is notorious that it has been exclu- 
 sively built with stones taken from the Colosseum. 
 
 The Egyptian obelisks, which are found in 
 various quarters of the city, serve greatly, by the 
 interest that attaches to them, as well as by their 
 own positive beauty, to adorn the city. There are 
 no less than twelve, all carried from vanquished 
 Egypt, as the trophies of conquest, by the proud 
 commanders of the Mistress of the World. They 
 are quadrilateral, and formed of one block of red 
 stone — I conclude, granite of a fine grain. They 
 are generally covered with hieroglyphics, the cut- 
 ting of which is as sharp and fresh at the present 
 day as it was 3000 years ago. 
 
 During the calamities of the city these obelisks 
 were thrown down and much injured. Some were 
 broken into several pieces. To Sixtus V. and 
 
OBELISKS. 307 
 
 Pius VI. chiefly we are indebted for their restora- 
 tion. The largest is opposite the church of St. 
 John Lateran's. It stands before the north portico, 
 where it was placed a. d. 1588, in the pontificate 
 of Sixtus V. It formerly stood in the Circus 
 Maximus, where it had been erected by the Empe- 
 ror Constantius. It is perhaps the largest in the 
 world. When placed on its present pedestal, from 
 its injured state, it was necessary to take off four 
 palms. Notwithstanding, the whole height, with 
 pedestal and ornaments at the top, is about 150 feet. 
 The total weight of the shaft is about 445 tons. 
 
 Gibbon remarks concerning this obelisk, " Seve- 
 ral of these extraordinary columns had been trans- 
 ported to Rome by Augustus and his successors, 
 as the most durable monuments of their power 
 and victory ; but there remained one obelisk, 
 which, from its size or sanctity, escaped for a long 
 time the rapacious vanity of the conquerors. It 
 was designed by Constantine to adorn his new 
 city ; and after being removed by his order from 
 the pedestal where it stood, before the temple of 
 the sun at Heliopolis, was floated down the Nile 
 to Alexandria. The death of Constantine sus- 
 pended the execution of his purpose, and this 
 obelisk was destined by his son to the ancient 
 
308 OBELISKS. 
 
 capital of the empire. A vessel of uncommon 
 strength and capaciousness was provided to convey 
 this enormous weight of granite, at least an hun- 
 dred and fifteen feet in length, from the banks of 
 the Nile to those of the Tiber. The obelisk of 
 Constantius was landed about three miles from the 
 city, and elevated by the efforts of art and labour 
 in the great circus of Rome." 
 
 It is indeed a magnificent monument, and a suit- 
 able gift from the Roman emperor to the Roman 
 people. It cannot be viewed without calling to 
 mind the genius and skill of the great people who 
 inhabited the banks of the Nile, or, acknowledging 
 the prowess of the Roman hosts, who embarked in 
 unceasing toil, until they deposited their precious 
 freight in the seven-hilled city. It bears upon one 
 side the name of Constantine. 
 
 There is a beautiful obelisk on the Monte 
 Citorio. It is that which Augustus set up as a 
 sun-dial in the Campus Martius. It bears the 
 following inscription : — 
 
 IMP. CAKSAR. DIVI. P. 
 
 AVGVSTVS, 
 
 PONTIFEX MAXIMVS, 
 
 IMP. XIII. COS. XI. TRIB. POT. XIV. 
 
 AEGYPTO IN POTESTATEM 
 
 POPVLI ROMANI RED ACTA, 
 
 SOLI DONVM DEDIT. 
 
OBELISKS. 309 
 
 It was placed in its present position in the 
 eighteenth year of Pius VI. The whole height, 
 with its pedestal, is 110 feet. It was, when found, 
 much damaged, having been broken into four 
 pieces. The proportions of this work of Egyp- 
 tian art are considered to be the best of any of 
 those to be found at Rome. The position it occu- 
 pies is also high and commanding. 
 
 There is another large obelisk in the open space 
 near the Porta del Popolo, called the Flaminian. 
 This, as the inscription declares, was presented to 
 the Roman people by Augustus, Pontifex Maxi- 
 mus. While on another side, one of the Popes, 
 Sixtus V., has, in wretched taste, inscribed his own 
 name, with the addition of " Pontifex Maximus" 
 also ; announcing that it has been rededicated, and 
 the stain it acquired from " impure superstition" 
 wiped away. The whole height is about 116 feet. It 
 was broken in three places. A fine fountain flows 
 at its base, the water of which is guarded by two 
 sphinxes. 
 
 Another large obelisk stands in the centre of 
 the amphitheatre opposite St. Peter's. Caligula 
 brought this obelisk to Rome, by whom it was 
 erected in the Vatican circus. It was removed 
 into its present position by Fontana, the architect 
 
310 OSTENTATION OF 
 
 of Sixtus V. The whole height, with pedestal 
 and cross at the summit, is 132 feet. It had been 
 thrown down like the rest and injured, but was, 
 as I have remarked, subsequently restored. This 
 obelisk is formed of a single block, and possesses 
 no hieroglyphics. The same feeling operated with 
 Sixtus. His name stands inscribed upon the 
 monument. His overweening vanity induced him 
 to place it there. 
 
 Ostentation is the besetting sin of the Popes. 
 Afraid, it is but too probable, that they shall build 
 up no structure of fame which shall hand down 
 their names to posterity, they seize every oppor-' 
 tunity of placing it before the public, and do not 
 at all regard the injury they inflict upon the 
 national monuments by so doing.* The juxta- 
 position of a Sixtus and a Caesar looks something 
 more than ridiculous. Does not the attempt savour 
 something of the frog and the ox in the fable ? In 
 the same spirit we find a marble tablet announcing 
 in large letters that a Pope has repaired an arch 
 of the great aqueduct, or rendered the Pincian 
 hill an agreeable promenade. He had been a very 
 unwise prince if he suffered the supply of the 
 
 * This remark would apply more to the Flaminian than the Vati- 
 can obelisk, where Augustus occupies one side, and Sixtus the other. 
 
THE POPES. 311 
 
 " acqua felice" to be diminished. The parading of 
 his name upon the work might seem to favour the 
 opinion that he was a misanthrope, and that this 
 act was the exception to the general rule. But 
 the Pope's designation there, at all events, will not 
 be able to hide the fact from the world, that this 
 great and useful work is essentially Roman, and 
 belongs to the times of the emperors, not to his. 
 
 This ostentation has also made its way into the 
 museums. There are many vases and statues 
 which have a scroll attached to them, with the 
 words " Munificentia Pii Sexti" &c. ; and in some 
 cases, with more modesty, we find the gift recorded 
 by a simple " Cura dementis" &c. 
 
 I observed a well supplied market to be held 
 in the street opposite the Pantheon. Among the 
 usual supplies of meat and fowl generally found 
 in such places, a wild boar occasionally appeared, 
 with which some of the nobility might make a feast 
 in imitation of that of Horace. But a strange 
 addition to the table was sometimes offered for sale 
 — a porcupine. This, I u«derstand, is the ne plus 
 ultra of a Roman delicacy — the very dish for a 
 cardinal's feast when he entertains the magnates of 
 the land. It should be dressed with the quills on, 
 if only to illustrate Shakspeare's simile, when the 
 
312 FOUNTAINS. 
 
 unearthly visitant's disclosures to Hamlet threaten 
 to make 
 
 " each particular hair to stand on end, 
 Like quills upon the fretful porcupine." 
 
 The city of Rome derives not the least of its 
 ornaments from the number and variety of its 
 fountains. From the aqueducts, that pour their 
 liquid streams in great profusion from the sur- 
 rounding hills, the supply of water is not only 
 sufficient for the city, but also to keep these re- 
 freshing fountains in continual play. The largest 
 and most beautiful is the Fontana di Frevi, erected* 
 at the end of the Stamp-Office. There are several 
 characteristic groups in marble. From beneath 
 some artificial rocks the water bursts with wild 
 force, and rolls into an ample basin in front. The 
 murmuring of the water has a very grateful effect, 
 situated as it is amid the bustle and in the centre 
 of the city. The water is as clear as crystal, and 
 as cool as the "fins Brandusia" which Horace 
 celebrates. Amid the summer heats the freshness 
 imparted to the air from the neighbourhood must 
 be in the highest degree grateful. 
 
 There is a handsome fountain opposite the 
 church of St. Bruno, which jets forth the water of 
 
FOUNTAINS. 313 
 
 the acquafelice. Moses is represented in alto-relievo, 
 in the act of striking the rock, as the children of 
 Israel murmured for the refreshing streams. In 
 obedience to his word it gushes wildly at his feet. 
 
 In the centre of the Piazza di Spagna stands a 
 fountain of a novel but interesting design. In the 
 centre of an oval basin is a Roman galley, be- 
 neath whose rising stern and bows the foaming 
 current dashes with considerable force. She looks 
 like a trireme ascending the Tiber, proudly im- 
 pelled by her rowers, fresh from naval conquest. 
 
 The Piazza Navona is ornamented by a very 
 large fountain. In the centre of the basin stands 
 an obelisk; around the base are grouped four 
 spirited human figures, representing the four great 
 rivers, beneath each of which a large volume of 
 water takes its course. This fountain is the work 
 of Bernini. 
 
 There is nothing in Rome that disappoints one 
 more than the Tiber. From its being connected 
 so much with classic story, we picture to ourselves 
 a broad and rapid stream, reflecting the deep blue 
 sky, and rolling its limpid waters to the sea. 
 The river is narrow, and sunk in its bed like a 
 ditch. Its waters are of a deep muddy colour ; its 
 banks teem with filth, and I should as soon use the 
 
 p 
 
314 THE TIBER. 
 
 water of a sewer. It was well that it was night 
 when Horace gives the direction, 
 
 " Teruncti 
 Transnaiito Tiberim, somno quibus est opus alto;" 
 
 as at any other time I think it doubtful if any one 
 could be prevailed upon to do so. The bridge of 
 St. Angelo, formerly the Pons iElius, crosses it, 
 and leads to the Vatican. It is wide and solid, 
 and is adorned by several statues. The other 
 bridges possess little beauty. 
 
 A few decked boats trade from Ostia to the out- 
 skirts ; and a couple of steamers, about as large as 
 those plying on the Thames with passengers, consti- 
 tute the only vessels on its surface. A novel mode 
 for taking fish may daily be seen here. Four bag 
 nets are placed upon poles, crossing at right angles. 
 This is placed so that it revolves like a mill by the 
 current, and in its revolution, if it has captured a 
 " muttus trilibris," or any other of the scaly tribe, 
 it is so arranged as to cast it into a boat that lies 
 beside. 
 
 The ferry-boat of the Tiber is also curious in 
 its way, and worth notice. A strong rope reaches 
 across the river, and is firmly attached to either 
 wall; upon this a pully is managed to traverse, 
 
THE CAPITOL. 315 
 
 from which there is a rope to the front of the boat. 
 When the Charon of the Tiber wishes to cross 
 with his living freight, he merely turns the bow in 
 that direction, retaining the boat in her position by 
 a large rudder. The force of the current upon the 
 side is the moving power. Without a pole or oar 
 she glides rapidly across, and the pulley steadily 
 advances along the larger rope as if it were driven 
 by some invisible agency. " II capitano" takes a 
 baiocco, and, as you take your seat, politely bids you 
 a " Buono giorno, signore." 
 
 The Capitol, or, as it is called, 27 Campidoglio, lies 
 at the south-west end of the city. This famous 
 hill has but a small elevation, but it is probable 
 that the valley on either side has risen by the 
 accumulated rubbish of centuries. The ambitious 
 summit was considered a good site for a church ; 
 accordingly that of Ara Cceli has been erected 
 there, and is approached by a dizzy flight of steps. 
 Another part contains the palace appropriated to il 
 senatore, an honourable officer of the government. 
 The museum of the Capitol is also here, full of the 
 choice remains of antiquity ; opposite to which is 
 the picture-gallery, containing neither a very ex- 
 tensive nor varied collection. Guercino's greatest 
 work is here, "L'Ensevelissement de St. Petronille," 
 
316 THE FORUM. 
 
 a painting larger than the "Transfiguration." It is 
 marked by that master's distinctive excellence. 
 The figures at the burial have the indications of 
 emotion indelibly stamped upon them. The colour- 
 ing is strong and expressive, every part marked by 
 the bold touches which discover the pencil of 
 Guercino. 
 
 In the centre of the open space on the summit 
 stands a fine bronze equestrian figure of Marcus 
 Aurelius. The horse is very spirited, and is said 
 to have obtained the warm eulogiums of Michael 
 Angelo. It is the most perfect equestrian statue 
 that remains, and has so much value attached to it, 
 that an especial officer is appointed for its care, 
 called * HI custode di cavallo." 
 
 Immediately as you descend to the west, the 
 " eloquent Forum" bursts upon the view. It is the 
 site of the senate-house — that intellect which for 
 ages conquered and governed the world, gave away 
 crowns and dethroned kings, and exercised so 
 great an influence upon the happiness and fortunes 
 of all people, from the Tiber to the Borysthenes — 
 from the northern boundary of Britain to the Pil- 
 lars of Hercules. It is the place where Tully pro- 
 nounced his indignant oration against Catiline — 
 and where the patriotic Cato was wont to address 
 
THE FORUM. 317 
 
 the assembled fathers, full of the spirit of freedom. 
 Here kings sued for their sceptres, or princes 
 petitioned for aid. Time has not only broken up 
 the senate, but no stone remains to attest the site 
 of the palladium of freedom. It has frowned 
 darkly upon the buildings of the spot, effaced some 
 from the scene, and its hand is still at work upon 
 the monuments which remain. It has half buried 
 the arch of Septimius Severus, as if we had arrived 
 at a new era, that was ashamed of the institutions 
 which had given it birth — war, rapine, and blood.* 
 The temples are not spared ; time has profaned 
 their sacredness. Its fingers have been busy in 
 
 * " But the gigantic grasp of Roman ambition comprehended the 
 most powerful of the earth, and made them drink deep of degradation. 
 The usual lot of prisoners of war was slavery — a practice bad enough, 
 but common to the rest of antiquity with Rome ; the institution of 
 triumphs is her peculiar glory and distinction. Something may be 
 said in palliation of a victor, who, having possession of his enemy, 
 obviates the danger of further resistance or revolt, by committing him 
 to that narrow prison from which alone there is no chance of escape. 
 But when a Roman general's arms were crowned with success, the 
 prisoners of highest estimation were carefully reserved ; and when all 
 danger from their life was at an end, and their degradation, as far as 
 external circumstances can degrade, was complete, after they had 
 been led in chains before their conqueror's car, to swell his vanity and 
 to satiate the pride of Rome, they were sent to perish, unheeded and 
 unlamented, by the hands of the executioner, and the thanksgiving 
 due to the gods and the triumphal banquet were delayed until the 
 savage ritual was duly performed. ' Those even who triumph, and 
 
 p 3 
 
318 THE FORUM. 
 
 overthrowing their altars, and stretching upon their 
 roofs and pillars the mantle of green weeds, which 
 is the favourite attire of ruin. u Two or three 
 columns and many a stone," still in their decay 
 eminently beautiful, convey the idea of their pre- 
 sent situation. How forcibly do they appeal to 
 the mind, and array our feelings in their be- 
 half, sympathising with their fallen state ! How 
 full of contemplation they are, bringing back 
 things fraught with interest, but forgotten ! 
 Once the seats of pomp and pride, their sun has 
 gone down, and left the walls involved in im- 
 penetrable darkness. Where are the crowds that 
 
 therefore grant longer life to the hostile chiefs, that from their pre- 
 sence in the procession the Roman people may derive its fairest 
 spectacle and fruit of victory, yet bid them to be led to prison when 
 they begin to turn their chariots from the Forum to the Capitol ; and 
 the. same day puts an end to the conqueror's command and to the life 
 of the conquered.' — In Verrem, act ii. lib. v. 30. They led the pri- 
 soners to execution at the moment when the triumphal chariot began 
 to ascend the Capitoline hill, in order, they said, that their moment 
 of highest exultation might be that of their enemies' extremest agony. 
 There is a needless barbarity and insolence in the whole proceeding 
 which is peculiarly disgusting, and which was aggravated by the 
 solemnn hypocrisy of placing in the triumphal chariot a slave to 
 whisper in the victor's ear, ' Remember that thou art a man,' when, 
 in the same instant, they displayed so signal a disregard for the 
 reverses to which humanity is exposed, and such contempt for the 
 lessons which that warning ought to have taught." — Historical 
 Parallels, vol. i., Library of Entertaining Knowledge. 
 
ARCH OF CONSTANTINE. 319 
 
 visited them? Where is the priest? where the 
 sacrifices covered with spotless garlands? where 
 is the mingled acclaim of populace and priest? 
 Upon all another day has arisen: the worshiper 
 and the idols have gone : they are now the sanc- 
 tuary of silence. 
 
 A little further on the cold grey wall of the Co- 
 losseum arises, exhibiting to the view that portion 
 which has been honoured by time, and spared by 
 the hand of the domestic barbarian. Its arches, 
 although massive, appear light and beautiful, and 
 are uniform, like a succession of casts from the same 
 mould. Its form is sternly raised above the sur- 
 rounding buildings, in different stages of decay, as 
 if it felt a certain pride in successfully resisting the 
 influences which have dismantled them.   It is like 
 the old oak of the forest, the last of the giant 
 brood, with its black trunk and extended branches, 
 which, while the storm has swept the rest to the 
 earth, lifts itself amid the desolation. 
 
 A little further to the right the eye catches the 
 triumphal arch of Constantine, almost as perfect 
 at the present day as when it was first erected to 
 commemorate the emperor's campaigns. The 
 figure of the ancient triumphal arch is very beau- 
 tiful. It is a detached building, consisting of a 
 
320 ARCH OF TITUS. 
 
 central arch, and one of inferior dimensions on 
 either side ; above which, but preserving the most 
 exact proportions, rises the entablature. It is 
 generally profusely ornamented either with statues 
 or basso-relievos, the subject recording the con- 
 quests of the victor. The melancholy captive, 
 dragged from his mountain home to gratify the 
 Roman populace, stands copied in the marble, 
 while the heavy chains attest his wretched for- 
 tunes. We have figures of the Roman soldier, 
 presenting to our view their muscular limbs and 
 arms, and giving fair ideas of that energy which 
 invaded and vanquished the less hostile kingdoms 
 of Europe. They are replete, also, with the im- 
 plements and engines of war. The victor is mostly 
 represented on the interior of the arch, attended 
 by the chained victims to ambition and the spoils 
 of battle — the best representation, probably, that 
 remains of the triumph that was wont, in the days 
 of Roman greatness, to ascend the Capitol. 
 
 Much nearer, and raised above the road that led 
 from the Forum to the Colosseum, stands the isolated 
 arch of Titus. This has suffered considerably, the 
 figures having been injured either wantonly or by the 
 atmosphere. The arch is not so large as that of Con- 
 stantine, but its proportions are very elegant. To 
 
ARCH OF TITUS. 321 
 
 it also the greatest interest attaches, as it was built 
 to commemorate Titus's subjugation of Judaea 'and 
 the destruction of Jerusalem. The ornaments 
 raised on the interior of the arch are the most 
 wonderful that can be well conceived. There 
 remains, copied in the stone, the sacred furniture of 
 the temple of David. The emperor is represented 
 triumphing, and the mystical vessels which were 
 used in the service of Jehovah are carried in his 
 train. The ark of the covenant is borne by the 
 soldiers ; and conspicuous appears what was made 
 by express Divine direction, the sevenfold candle- 
 stick. 
 
 It is impossible to contemplate these objects 
 without a feeling of awe ; we are, as it were, 
 brought into the presence of those objects which 
 ministered to the worship of God within the con- 
 fines of one nation, while all others were in total 
 darkness as to religious truth. And yet here we 
 behold the emblems of his nature proudly carried 
 to swell the triumph, and to add to the honour of a 
 pagan prince, — a spectacle regarded, no doubt, by 
 the clamorous crowd as a defeat sustained by the 
 God of the Jews at the hands of their numerous 
 deities. But how little claim had they to that feel- 
 ing ! As well might the earthquake or the pesti- 
 
322 TEMPLES. 
 
 lence, instruments which Providence sometimes 
 uses in furtherance of its wise but inscrutable de- 
 signs, lay claim to the work that they had done. The 
 Romans were the instruments of Jewish punish- 
 ment, and without their knowledge were fulfilling 
 the page of prophecy. Theirs were " the eagles" 
 that stooped to prey on the spoil of Judsea. The 
 honour of that Being who presided equally over 
 Gentile and Jew suffered nothing by such a scene, 
 however the hearts of the sons of Jacob may have 
 mourned, and their sighs have been as numerous as 
 the willow leaves dropped upon the plain at the chill 
 approach of autumn. At the advent of the Mes- 
 siah the service of the Jewish temple was neces- 
 sarily at an end. The types or shadows were no 
 longer useful when the Being that was prefigured 
 was come. They were the instruments of God's 
 ordinances heretofore, and might be lawfully laid 
 aside. This the Divine counsels thought necessary 
 to put into execution by the strong hand of power, 
 when that people, the objects of its protection for 
 so many ages, relied upon them after their virtue 
 was gone, and rejected the all-important revelation 
 made for the benefit of mankind. 
 
 Some of the temples of the Forum remain to us 
 still, having been long since converted into 
 
CONVENTS. 323 
 
 churches. The temple dedicated by the servile 
 senate to the wife of Marcus Antoninus preserves 
 much of its form in its Christian application, and 
 upon the front the words " Divce Faustina" remain, 
 in nowise injured by time. How little she de- 
 served this honour the voice of history plainly 
 tells ; an asylum would have been more suitable to 
 her than a temple. The morals of the people must 
 have been at a low ebb at the period, and the 
 canker, from which may be dated the decline of 
 the empire, had made its way already into the 
 heart of society. 
 
 Upon the site of the temple of Romulus and 
 Remus a church has arisen. The place where 
 St. Peter and St. Paul are said to have been im- 
 prisoned is also similarly commemorated. The 
 church is small, but it is always crowded with 
 votaries. 
 
 Several convents have been erected in or near 
 the Forum. The monks are seen walking indo- 
 lently along, characterised by their various habits. 
 We might imagine them pilgrims of the genius of 
 the old city, their loose dress being not unlike the 
 toga. The contemplative mind, as it is full of the 
 interest kindled by the spot, is frequently arrested 
 in its occupation by the convent bell, calling the 
 
324 CONCLUDING REMARKS. 
 
 inmates to prayer. As its sound rolls unimpeded 
 •through the arches of the Colosseum, and along 
 the empty halls of the palace of the Caesars, it is, as 
 it were, their knell, asserting by its iron tongue the 
 dominion of religion over the countless altars and 
 aisles now lowly humbled before the spirit of 
 truth. 
 
 Such is the Roman Forum now ! In human 
 things there are several stages ; it has passed that 
 of decline, and is now in decay. The time may 
 not be far distant when even fewer memorials of 
 the consular or imperial days shall remain, and 
 nothing but its name serve to identify the spot. 
 Empires and their institutions are like human life; 
 they have their youth, their manhood, and their 
 prime ; and when they have reached this, the seeds 
 of change still shew themselves, and they go down 
 the steep, perhaps as rapidly as they rose. They, 
 too, shew " second childhood," and imbecility pre- 
 cipitates their doom. The old age of Rome was 
 as destitute of strength as of counsel, and her vices 
 adhered to her while her physical energy had gone. 
 Although she did much to accelerate her fall, it 
 may be mostly attributable to that instability which 
 is inherent in all earthly things. Kingdoms are 
 not permanent. Although built up by wisdom 
 
CONCLUDING REMARKS. 325 
 
 gathered from every source, the history of the 
 world records their rise and fall. The sites of 
 powerful cities become a matter of doubt, and 
 dynasties, whose dominion at one period reached 
 from sea to sea, exist only in name. There 
 is nothing eternal but truth ! The efforts of the 
 greatest minds gradually fade. The law of change 
 and dissolution, that governs every moving thing, 
 extends its influence upon their works. The crea- 
 tions of arbitrary power, or of a spirit instigated by 
 renown, resist in vain the action of the elements 
 and of tfme. The monuments of greatness are 
 like those of the dead, serving their purpose for 
 awhile, but sure to be broken and obliterated at 
 last. But truth is permanent still, and an over- 
 ruling Providence attests itself, while the power of 
 the great Being, who regulates all things, remains 
 always the same, and is brought home in every 
 age, to every heart. 
 
 THE END. 
 
LONDON : 
 
 Printed by S. & J. Bkntley, Wilson, and Fley, 
 
 Bangor House, Shos Lane. 
 
1X PAV r 
 
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