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TWO YEARS

SWITZERLAND AND ITALY.

FREDRIKA BREMER.

TRANSLATED BY

MAEY HOWITT.

IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. n.

(>) T.
''/•I;

LONDON:
HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS,
SUCCESSORS TO HENRY COLBURN,
13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
1861.
The right of Translation is reserved.

LONDON :
PRINTED BT H. BORN, GLOUCESTER STREET,
REGENT'S PAKK.

CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

TENTH STATION.
A Week in Genoa — Folk's Life — Palaces — Italian Evangelical
Church — Journey to Spezzia — Glance over the Sardinian State
— Pisa — Exterior of Hospitals — Pisa Formerly and at the Pre
sent Time — The Leaning Tower — Catharina Ferucci — "La
Donna Italiana " — Rosa Ferucci — The Cathedral and San Piso —
Florence — Life — Art— Beauty — La Specola— Galileo — La Tri-
buna— Tuscany as Formerly and at the Present Time— From
Florence, by Sienna, to Rome . __ . . . 1
ELEVENTH STATION.
In Rome — First Impression— First Rambles in Old and New
Rome— The Pope -The Last Judgment— Church Festivals—
Drawing-Room Life — Faith in Miracles — The Catacombs— A
Poet-ess— Christmas Day in the Vatican — Child Preachings—
St. Paulo Fuori de Mure— Attempt at Conversion— A Little
of Everything— Close of the year 1857 . . .49

vi CONTENTS.
TWELFTH STATION.
New-Year's Thoughts— Romantic Preludes— Festal Life in Rome
— Beggars— Museo Christiano— Evening in the Palazzo Far-
nese— Festival of the Propaganda— Cold and Catarrh— View
from the Capitol— Carnival— Influenza— Preparation for Lent
—Pontifical Jubilee, and Pontifical Bill of Fare- Soiree at the
Grants' — Cardinal Antonelli . . ¦ .97
THIRTEENTH STATION.
Trinita di Monte — Conversion — Audience with the Pope — A little
about the Pope and St. Peter— The Grand Duchess Helena —
Four Cardinals— Conversion of a Nun — Lent Sermons — The
Carmelite Monk— Pere Marie Louis— The Drive to Frascati
and Tivoli— The Holy Week — An Abjuration — Festival and
Danger— Retraite in Sacre Cceur — Conversion-fight, in Evil
and in Good — Still an Abjuration — Removal to the Capitol —
New Life — Little Discoveries and Experiences — The Catholic
Church during the month of May — My Resume — Departure
from Rome ...... 141
FOURTEENTH STATION.
Arrival at Naples — Eruption of Vesuvius — Life in Naples — Un
expected Arrival at Ischia — Mrs. M  and Mr. N  An
Enchanted Island — The Princess Elsa and Waldo — Romantic
Days and Weeks — The King and Queen of Naples — The People
on the Islands — Sorrento — Love and Disquiet — Noble and Ig
noble Love — Folk's Festivals and Folk's Life — Our Domestic
Life — Worship of the Virgin — The Prince of Syracuse — Days
at Capri — Amain — Salerno — Psestum — Pompeii — Something
Enchanted— The Romance Continued— How Will it End? 269

CONTENTS. VU

FD7TEENTH STATION.

The Miracle of San Gennaro — The Royal Family of Naples —
Museo-Borbonica — The Minister of the Interior, Bianchini —
The Inner Life of Naples ; the Innermost — Benevolent Institu
tions — the Handsome Nuns — System of Government in Naples
— Excursion to Caserta and Portici — Villa Reale and the
Comet — The Folk's-Theatre at Naples — New Acquaintance —
New Troubles — The Prince of Villa Ombrosa and the Princess
Elsa — A Day in Pompeii — Magnanimity and Despair — Rapid
Journey to Sicily and  . The End . . .351
Note . . . . . . .406

TWO TEARS IN SWITZERLAND
AND ITALY.

TENTH STATION.
A Week in Genoa — Folks' Life — Palaces — Italian Evangelical
Church — Journey to Spezzia — Glance over the Sardinian State
— Pisa — Exterior of Hospitals — Pisa Formerly and at the Pre
sent Time — The Leaning Tower — Catharina Ferucci — "La
Donna Italiana " — Rosa Ferucci — The Cathedral and San Piso —
Florence — Life — Art— Beauty — La Specola — Galileo — La Tri-
buna — Tuscany as Formerly and at the Present Time — From
Florence, by Sienna, to Rome.
Genoa, October 25th. — I did not go by way of Novara.
I had merely the satisfaction of having seen the hand
some, little, and very lively city, lying upon elevated
ground, environed by alleys of beautiful trees ; and of
having seen the field where the last great battle was
fought between Carlo Alberto and Kadetzky. I was
shewn the house where the king took up his abode, and
whence, immediately after his abdication, he went into
voluntary exile. I was obliged in the evening to
VOL. II. B

2 GENOA.
return to Turin. The day following communication
was re-established, and I went to Genoa by railway.
The locomotives used on Swiss railways have such
names as William Tell, Stauffacher, Winkelried, Grutli,
and many other similar national appellations. In Italy
they are called Alfieri, Dante, Tasso, Vico, Volta, Ga
lileo, Manzoni, and so on, very symbolic of the dissi
milar genius of the two countries. On this occasion
the locomotive wa3 the Amio which conducted me
southward. The morning was glorious; and glorious
seemed to me the green food-bearing earth as I sped
forward upon it — and the sun in his ascent lit up the
great Alpine chain and their giant heads, in the most
gorgeous colouring of gold and crimson. We passed
by Asti, the city where Alfieri was born, and the vine
yards of which produce the most delicious grapes,
which afforded to my palate its greatest enjoyment at
Turin — and Alessandria, which, like Asti, is a town of
increasing life and population.
The nearer we approached Genoa the more hilly
became the country, and therefore the more worthy of
admiration was the construction of the railway — some
times by means of viaducts, which, like goats, boldly
throw themselves from rock to rock across the abysses.
We reached Genoa in the afternoon. I took a citta-
dina, a little Genoese carriage, which conveyed me
round the city for a whole half hour, probably with the
view of receiving higher payment, but, nevertheless, to
my great pleasure, because it was Sunday, and the
entire population of Genoa seemed to be abroad in the
streets. Whichever way one looked, one saw men and
women walking about for pleasure, all well dressed and
all looking cheerful. Transparent, snow-white gauze
floated from the heads of the women, fastened into
their beautiful dark hair with golden pins, or ornaments,

STREET-PICTURES. 3
and beautiful dark eyes glanced from beneath them.
The streets and promenades were thronged with people.
All looked festal.
I fetched away from Madame B  's my young
countrywoman, Jenny Lind, who is not, however, our
great artiste, Jenny Lind, with the glorious voice, but
a good girl, true, handsome, and blooming as a Hebe,
as are many Swedish girls. We obtained two most
charming little rooms, with mosaic floors, and the most
lovely view over the harbour and the great ocean, in
the Hotel de Ville, up four flights of steps. It was
rather high, but the steps are of white marble, and con
venient. The hotel was a Palazzo Grimaldi, and one
is willing to ascend somewhat aloft to have such air
and such a view. Jenny, I, and one of the young
Norwegians who accompanied me hither, spent the eve
ning comfortably, with a tea-supper, conversing before
the open glass doors of the balcony, and with a view
over the sea and the vast horizon, which was lit up
every minute with grand lightning - flashes, without
thunder. The air was refreshing and pleasant.
After a week in Genoa. — One might live here a long
time and continually have new pleasure. The popular
life is peculiar, and full of animation. The women's
veils, or gauze pezottos, as they are called, give a re
markably picturesque character to their heads, although
these in general lack beauty ; but the pezotto which
flutters round the figure gives a grace and embellish
ment to it. The pezotto, indeed, has no other purpose
than this, because it does not cover, it does not even
cast a shadow over the countenance, but it flutters from
the crown down over the shoulders and back.
One sees in the streets a lively movement every
where — trade, opulence, no beggars. People talk, buy
and sell, laugh, eat maccaroni and farinella, a very nice
B2

4 OLD GENOESE GRANDEUR.
cake made of pea -meal and oil. The working men
look strong and well-conditioned — handsome people.
White marble palaces, with laurel and orange-trees in
their courts, shine out on every hand. The palaces lying
along the harbour are now nearly all converted into
hotels, and some of them look outwardly very much
like nests of thieves, and that perhaps with reason, but
they have within beautiful marble stairs and large
splendid rooms. Thus our Palazzo Grimaldi, where
one flies rather than climbs up and down the stairs,
which are exquisite from bottom to top. Within the
city the palaces are still in full splendour, and belong to
wealthy and powerful old families, who are now begin
ning to repair and adorn them, somewhat in competition
with the democratic tide which threatens to overflow
the formerly aristocratic republic. But Genoa la Su-
perba deserves its name at the present day, because she
sits on the shore of the Mediterranean like a princess
amongst cities, with her proud palaces and laurel groves,
with a background of hills, and before her the sea,
which, from her glorious, half-circular harbour, she seems
to rule with a grand and steady glance, Thus did her
greatest son, Columbus, whilst gazing across with his
spirit-glance, direct his eyes to the new world ; thus
Andrea Doria, called "the father of his country," from the
terrace of his marble palace in the myrtle and orange
groves which he himself planted, raised his gray head,
in the proud consciousness of his country and his life of
citizenship in her service. Fiesco, the bold head of a
party, must have comprehended the Genoese republic
with the same proud, grand glance, when, as in Schiller's
" Fiesco," he exclaimed, " Thou, mine ! " The mighty
spirits of the first republic have left here evident traces ;
and although Genoa lost her republican independence,
and is now merely a city of the Sardinian state, it is

VILUAJPALLAVICINI. 5
still, nevertheless, one of the most remarkable and pecu
liar cities of Italy. I will now say a few words about
what I saw there — and first of the Villa Pallavicini.
It is a hill converted into pleasure-grounds, with
temples,ruins, three hermits' cells, Swiss chalets, pagodas,
and all kinds of buildings, scattered here and there
amongst groves, rocks, lakes without plan or method,
as by an architect of genius, half-intoxicated. The guide
who conducted me around repeated continually, " Une
belle exposition ! " — and of the ruins, the tombs or the
temples " Tout est vieux, tout est neuf!" which expression
might indeed imply that the plans from which they were
taken were old, but the buildings new. The most beautiful
feature of the villa seemed to me, however, to be the view
from its laurel groves of Genoa and the sea. The most
remarkable object there was, in my opinion, the artificial
grotto, made of natural splendid stalactites, in the dark
vault of which we were rowed round in a little boat,
and came out upon a lake of the clearest water, on the
shores of which stand kiosks, obelisks, pagodas, &c.
It is like a magical scene, especially when from the
gloomy stalactite vault one emerges upon the little
lake on the summit of the mountain, and the view ex
pands over the infinite glorious blue sea." It is an as
tonishment of the highest species of beauty. Bare
flowers and trees, seats of porcelain, all kinds of orna
mental curiosities, scattered about in the walks and
groves, are lesser surprises, which are everywhere to be
met with; also jets of water, which unexpectedly besprin
kle the wandering stranger. There are two temples of
dazzling white marble, which are of striking beauty.
The Villa Pallavicini is the pearl of this species of
splendid villa, and deserves a visit from every lover of
art. The day was lovely, and our guides extremely po
lite and kind. It seemed to be a pleasure to them to

6 THE MARRIAGEABLE DAUGHTERS OF GENOA.
carry in portantina, the pretty Jenny, who, after a severe
illness had but little strength for continued exertion in
walking. Secondly, I will speak of the Corso of Genoa, the
grand promenade, where the gay world of the city pre
sents to observation its marriageable daughters and
marrying young men ; for there is neither social inter
course nor social life in Genoa. The young ladies
whom their parents or relatives wish to get married
promenade upon the Corso, when they are seen by the
young men, and may see them if they venture to raise
their eyes. When any one of them has attracted the
attention or taken the fancy of a young man, he gains
from some of her connections information regarding her
property or expected fortune, and the circumstances of
her family. If these are all found to be unexception
able, he then announces himself as a wooer. The young
lady's connections have in the meantime been making
their inquiries relative to his position, monetary affairs,
&c, and if the result be satisfactory, she is then in
formed of the intended match, in which her wishes have
been very seldom consulted, but which has been ar
ranged by the two families ; and the young couple are
betrothed without becoming better acquainted with
each other. Marriage and domestic happiness come
afterwards. Yet even in these respects things are said
to be better now than they used to be formerly, and
cicisbeoism much less general.
We observed that this kind of market was being held
on the terrace La Concordia, when there with Madame
B a few days since. The promenade was much
thronged. The marriageable daughters walked two and
two before the parents, looking bashful and a little con
scious of the object for which they were there, and glanc
ing neither to the right handnor the left. The silk dresses

THE PROTESTANT CHURCH OP GENOA. 7
were splendid, and a few pezottos were worn with much
grace. They are an incomparable ornament to young
and beautiful figures. Formerly this kind of veil was
universal, even in the highest classes, but many ladies
now wear bonnets. The gentlemen were very nume
rous, and gazed at the promenading ladies industriously.
I wished them luck of a good bargain.
The shops of Genoa, especially the jewellers', have
still an old-fashioned appearance — are small and dark,
but appear to be well furnished, and to do much busi
ness. The peculiar pleasure of the people generally
seems to be walking on the promenades and attending
church festivals.
Genoa is strongly Catholic ; as may be perceived by
the great number of priests, churches and convents. At
three o'clock every morning a regular alarum begins
from the bells of innumerable larger and smaller churches,
which sound in chorus for an hour. In the evening
this ringing begins again. It is not melodious, yet at
the same time it sounds well, and is full of animation,
pealing as it does through the air, which is free
and fresh from the ocean. The air here is charming,
only too full of life — I feel my nerves, as it were,
excited by it. The weather is now so warm that we
sleep at night with open windows, the jalousies alone
closed. Yet, Catholic as Genoa is, there are, at the present
time, five Protestant churches there. One of these
belongs to the Italian branch of the Waldenses church.
It is under the care of Mazarella, formerly an advo
cate, a man of fervent zeal and remarkable eloquence,
whom I hope to hear. This Italian Evangelical Church
is peculiar in having, as yet, no determined formula of
established faith, but it satisfies itself with preaching
the Gospel, and by proclaiming Christ as a Bedeemer

8 RUMOURED MAZZINIAN OUTBREAK.
and Saviour, for society at large as well as for each in
dividual human being. To such as wish to become
members of this church this question is propounded —
"Do you believe in our Saviour Jesus Christ and in
His Gospel'?" If the question be answered in the
affirmative, and with an emphasis which testifies of a
sincere faith, the candidate for membership is received
into the church. Without attaching themselves to
socialistic theories, the community acknowledges a
warm interest in the liberation of Italy, and believes
that it will be arrived at through a religious regenera
tion. And in this respect it is probably right. It
waits for a definite inspiration, or an inner call, before
its dogmas can be more clearly defined. And in this
respect it is also certainly right.
November 1st. — The rumour of a Mazzinian outbreak
in Genoa — in consequence of some political prisoners
being brought hither from Naples — prevented me from
going to Signor Mazarella's church. M. Delarue, the
banker, who has shewn me much kindness and atten
tion, strongly advised me to go out at this side of the
city. Everything, however, remained quiet, and I saw
neither an Italian outbreak, nor heard an Italian ser
mon in the Italian Evangelical congregation ; and, what
is worse, shall not at a future time, because I am leav
ing Genoa on the morrow.
Many old families here are dissatisfied with the
annexation of Genoa to Piedmont, and dream of yet
making the city and its territory an independent re
public — dream of the grandeur of ancient times, with
out comprehending that of the present age, and without
comprehending — like the English aristocracy — how to
become great, by actively taking part in its develop
ment. The Genoese princes build up their palaces and
marble villas, and look with displeased glances on the

NEW GREATNESS OPENED TO GENOA. 9
decreased obeisance of the working class and the
peasants to their excellencies. Nevertheless, people
are beginning even here to do something for the people ;
and a few years ago a National Institute was opened,
under the management of Signora Teresa Ferucci, for
the instruction of young ladies. This promises some
thing ! The ladies of the higher classes are also begin
ning, in a still more earnest manner, to look after their
poor, ignorant sisters. But the Italian woman has not,
as yet, much of the gold of true cultivation to communi
cate. Genoa, in her annexation to Piedmont, has also
entered upon a path of citizenship of the world, which
secures her future, and opens to her people a new period
of greatness — that of humanity ! The spirit of associa
tion — that fresh force of formation in constitutional
states — is already in full activity in Piedmont, and col
lects the thinking portion of all classes for general
popular undertakings in many directions — industrial,
scientific, commercial. When this spirit begins to
operate, life can never again stagnate, if only the noble
gifts of life and cultivation are not confined merely to
the few. The citizens of Genoa are now erecting a
splendid monument to its great son, the discoverer of
a world, Columbus. A good sign for Genoa !
I leave Genoa with regret ; I would yet gladly
ramble about for many days amidst its marble palaces
and orange terraces, and in its narrow lanes, thronged
with trafficking, striving, industrious people, noticing
the handsome children, seeing the pezottos fluttering in
the wind, and glancing into the dark, fervent Italian
eyes ; gladly would I yet be able to see for many a
morning from my bed the crimson of sunrise above the
sea, and watch the evening enclose it in a ring of
purple and gold — hear the cheerful larum of church

10 LA SPEZZIA.
bells sounding through space ! But time flies ; I wish
yet to see Florence and to reach Kome before the
beautiful season of year is quite over, and I would avail
myself of the present good temper of the weather, in
order properly to see and enjoy the celebrated beauties
of the road between Genoa and Pisa ; we shall, there
fore, make the journey leisurely, and by easy stages,
with a careful vetturino.
La Spezzia, November 4th. — All the praise which has
been lavished upon this road gives but little idea of its
beauty, which eye and thought are incapable of taking
in. Red roses nod from the nearest walls of the
terraces — beyond these shine out groves of oranges,
laurels and myrtles — on the right lies the sea, calm and
grand— before us, and on the left, the Apennines in
lofty billows, with olive woods, villas, towns, churches,
vineyards, in their bosom. It is incomparably fine !
The road clambers up mountains, sweeps round bays of
the sea, presenting continually new pictures, where the
delightful and the grand are united — wonderful ! The
most lovely summer weather enabled us calmly to enjoy
these scenes to the full, and many an unspoken, grate
ful sentiment rose from the beautiful earth to the mild
summer heaven above it ! Swarms of begging chil-
dren, however, which ran after our carriage great part
of the way, disturbed the quiet enjoyment of the jour
ney. Is this beggary the result of an evil habit, or of
actual poverty ? In either case it is equally melan
choly, and Piedmont will not have done her duty until
this condition ceases.
We passed the first night on our journey at Sestri, a
bay and harbour of great beauty. Spezzia, where we
are at the present time, at the close of our second day's
journey, is a large harbour, in which we see large

THE GLORY OF PIEDMONT. 1 1
vessels lying at anchor. Spezzia is also a considerably
frequented bathing-place, and one sees some bathing
company still promenading the shore.
The sun is below the horizon, but the glow of his
setting shines bright upon the cold group of marble
mountains of Carrara. The evening star blazes above
the sea, which breaks softly in long, calm waves upon
the shore. We have excellent quarters in La Croix de
2Ialte, with white marble steps, and all the appearance
of a palace. We, Jenny and I, have each taken a salt
water bath, drunk tea, read together, and now, whilst
my young friend has gone to rest, I write my last fare
well to Piedmont, because in the morning we shall pass
out of its territory. We are here on the extreme
southern boundary. I am glad to have seen some
thing of the beauty of Piedmont also in the north.
How richly endowed is this state in every respect, how
formed for the life of a free and happy people ! Few
countries combine more various beauty and peculiar
characteristics. The valleys of the Waldenses are the
sources of the Po, at the foot of Monte Viso, the beau
tiful lakes Lago Maggiore and Como, with their
borders of Alps and enchanting shores ; the rich plain,
where all the fruits of the south come to maturity,
where increasing cities stand with their grand old
memories and new aspiring life ; the country on the
coast, from Nizza hither, with those grand harbours
and an incomparable climate ; the salubrious bathing,
where the sick find health, and everywhere, a beauty
beyond description ! May the state of Piedmont
be as good as it is beautiful and affluent, and
then it will be the pearl of all the kingdoms of the
earth. But the government and the people have a
great deal to do to attain to this great requirement.
Those begging children which swarm upon this road

12 PISA.
cry aloud for the means of education and food. The
large island of Sardinia, formerly — under the Roman
sway — well cultivated and richly populated, is at this
moment a wilderness, pleasant only to hunters and
artists, who love the picturesque in costume and nature;
and Savoy has a poor, half-savage population. But
Piedmont is a young state in an old, long-neglected
country. It is a youthful knight, well equipped by our
Lord to enter the arena of the time, to encounter the
old dragon, and liberate the people fettered by its
power. The people regard the young warrior hope
fully, and cry, " Success to thee, young champion ! "
And so do I, even now !
Pisa, November 7th. — Pisa is celebrated for its lean-
ins; tower and for its mild winter air. Travellers come
hither for the sake of seeing the tower, and to spend
the winter in the city, for the benefit of the mild, salu
brious winter air. But for all the world's towers, and
all the world's health, I would not reside in Pisa;
because Pisa strikes me as a hospital, where nothing
flourishes but misery ! The sky is gray, the earth is
gray, the city is gray, the Arno is gray, and the quays
along the river are crowded with beggars, young and
old — children, old men, old women, people with one
leg, and people without legs or without arms, the
blind, halt and lame, who all surround and persecute
the poor stranger from street to street, from lane to
lane, with a pertinacious importunity that makes him
feel unhappy and quite depressed. For, if all this want
and suffering be real — and so it seems to be — then it is
terrible, and places an individual person in a state of
despair. One might, in an hour's time, give till one re
duced one's self to wantj without having, after all, effect
ually helped a single one of this swarm of beggars. One

ITS MILD AIR AND MISERY. 13
cannot be at peace for a moment ; and whilst you are
pursued by half-a-dozen, or a whole dozen of people,
who exhibit or describe their misery, you are met by a
masked figure, a man clothed in black from head to
foot, remarkably like the dead — with this difference
merely, that eyes gleam dismally through the eye-holes
of the black leather mask — who audaciously, though
silently, stretches out towards you a black, jingling,
netted bag, on which is written "per gli infirmi" whilst
on the right hand and on the left are shrieked into your
ear promises of prayers to the Madonna, and good pros
pects for you in paradise. All this has very little that
is paradisaic about it, and excites the greatest desire to
flee away from such a purgatory of wretchedness and
beggary !
Happy they who have no necessity to live here on
account of the mild winter air ! Mild it is certainly,
but mild as unsalted water-gruel ; and for my part
I would rather be ill than in health amongst this popu
lation of beggars. It is legion in comparison with the
few well-dressed people who are to be seen in the
streets. The city itself has a sickly, dying or dead
appearance. It is, in fact, merely the corpse of the
formerly powerful Pisa, the head of an independent
republic of that name. For there was a time — from
the tenth to the fourteenth century — when the state of
Pisa was mighty in war and peace, on sea and on land.
But contentions with the growing republics of Genoa
and Florence crushed its power, and since the year
1406 Pisa, with her territory, has belonged to Tuscany.
Art and science have, however, upheld the life of the
city until a later period. But the death-blow came in
1848, when, in consequence of the youth of Pisa, and
its University also, having taken part in the Italian
attempt at liberation, the Tuscan government removed

14 THE CATHEDRAL.
the greater part of the University to Sienna. Since
this time Pisa has been principally supported by
foreigners, who come to see its tower, or for the benefit
of its air. But there seems to me to be a danger of
their being devoured or chased away by its beggars,
and that the dismal hunger-tower (the tower of Ugo-
lino) will, in the end, become a symbolic ghostly image
of the whole city.*
November 8th. — Pisa possesses, however, four re
markable objects worthy of a journey thither — the
Cathedral, the Leaning Tower, the Baptistry, and the
Campo Santo. They have been sufficiently described
by learned men and dilettanti, so that I may spare
myself and others any trouble of description. I will
merely here note down a few of the impressions which
I received from these great monuments ; and first and
foremost of the Cathedral, its glorious columned aisles,
its lofty dome, and its many beautiful works of art.
The walls are covered with paintings, both of the older
and later masters. Many are by Andrea del Sarto,
simple,' tender, and full of deep feeling in expression
and natural in execution.
Some antique statues stand also in the church.
" This," said my cicerone, pointing to a warlike figure
in marble, "is a statue of the god Mars, which was
found not far from this place.''
"But what has the god Mars to do in the church
here ? " I asked.
" Oh ! " replied Antonio, the sacristan, " they have
baptised him San Piso, and so they were able to set
him up here."
* Of this tower nothing now remains to be seen. On the place
which it is said to have occupied now stands a white painted house
with green shutters.— Author's note.

THE LEANING TOWER. 15
" How ? They have baptised a marble statue ? " I
repeated. "Yes," replied Antonio, unmoved; "because they
said it was a beautiful statue, which would be an orna
ment to the church. And therefore the god Mars was
baptised, and now he is San Piso."
Whilst we walked, thus conversing, through thechurch,
the priests were performing mass at the high altar for
the soul of some long deceased canon of the Church, and
all around lay people upon their knees, or sitting at the
confessional. Antonio, for all this, did not intermit his
explanations in a high key, and coughed and spat, some
times just before the kneeling and confessing penitents,
in a manner which scandalized me, but did not seem
either to move or disturb them. It was in this church
that Galileo, then only eighteen years old, discovered
the principle of the pendulum, from the swinging of a
lamp which hung from the roof.
The leaning tower — the campanile for the bells of the
cathedral — did not astonish me because it is out of the
upright, but because it did not' annoy me, a3 I had ex
pected, in a work of art which I consider to be a piece
of architectural charlatanry, intended to exhibit — not
the artist's sense of beauty, but his skill in trickery.
To my astonishment, however, I received no unpleasant
impression from this leaning tower, but a feeling -of
pleasure, of satisfaction, which I at first could not ex
plain to myself, partly because my mind works slowly,
and partly because the beggars, combined with the twi
light, chased me from the Piazza del Duomo. But I
returned hither early in the morning, before the beggars,
and then the matter became clear to me.
This tower is not in a falling position ; it leans, but as
if in the act of raising itself. It slants most in its lower
story, after which the tower sweeps upwards impercep-

16 SYMBOLISM OF ECCLESIASTICAL ARCHITECTURE.
tibly — and at the same time perceptibly — with the deli
cate colonnades of its eight stories, so that the upper
most circle is almost horizontal. It is a form which
erects or raises itself. Hence the agreeable rather than
painful impression. One has not the^slightest uneasi
ness lest the tower should fall, nor any sense of a desire
to have it propped up. One can see that it sustains
itself, or rather is drawn upwards, as by some power
above, and victory is already visible.
All the higher art of building is to me symbolical, and
is interesting merely from the divine or human life which
it represents. Thus the body of the ecclesiastical struc
ture appears to me like an image of the supplicating or
the worshipping congregation; the church tower or
towers are its extended hands. The interior of the
church, especially the interiors of the large Catholic
churches, corresponds to the inner world of Christianity,
and to the spiritual organism — in conformity with their
deeply significant type, the Mosaic ark of the testimony.
Every individual Christian finds also in it an image of
the temple of his own soul, with an outer court, a sanc
tuary, and a holy of holies, where the cherubim watch
over the Word of the Eternal God; and where the
awakened eye can read in the symbolic, plastic writing
of the Church the doctrine of revelation. The tower of
Pisa is to me like a word from this doctrine — no longer
a leaning tower, but an image of a sinner who raises
himself, or is raised up by the Invisible, who dwells above,
and in the light.
Campo Santo is a magnificent museum of tombs, in
teresting rather with reference to historical art than for
the beauty of its works of art ; for the greater number
of these are mutilated, or belong to a class of art lono-
since dead and gone ; as, for example, Orgagna's large
frescoes of heaven and hell, which seem to me beautiful

CAMPO SANTO. CATHARINA FERUCCI. 17
only as corpses and skeletons are so. In hell it is evi
dent that it would not be advisable to be a dweller ; but
Orgagna's heaven, in which stiff figures sit in rows under
orange trees, seems to me so unbearably wearisome, that
I would rather be anywhere else than there. The paths
of the Campo Santo are, for the rest, full of figures with
out arms, heads, noses ; and of monuments more or less
devastated by time or man. The genius of the Danish
Thorwaldsen has, however, produced even here an image
full of light and life, in the monument to the memory
of the young oculist, Vacca, who is represented as re
storing sight to an aged blind man.
The earth of this churchyard — which is surrounded
on the four sides by stone galleries — was brought hither
from Jerusalem in fifty galleys belonging to the Repub
lic of Pisa. The construction of the Campo Santo was
completed in the year 1283 ; and, singularly, from that
time the Republic began to descend to its grave. Nicolo
Pisano and his son Nino Pisano, are the great artists of
Pisa, who, during the heroic ages of the Republic, ad
vanced Italian art to a greater resemblance with the old
Greek models, or with ever young and beautiful nature
— which was the great teacher of the Greeks.
The baths of Pisa and its Cassino, or park, situated
at three hours' distance from the city, are celebrated, the
former for their health-giving power, the latter for its
grandeur and beauty.
But I will now speak of an acquaintance I made in
Pisa, who interested me more than all its monuments
and notabilities, that of a woman remarkable both for
talent and character — the authoress, Catharina Fran-
ceschi Ferucci.
I had already, when in French Switzerland, heard
her spoken of with great praise. During the gloomy
period of Italy's unsuccessful attempt at liberation, she,
VOL. II. C

18 LA DONNA ITALIANA.
like many another Piedmontese patriot, sought an
asylum in Switzerland, and gave in Geneva a course of
lectures on Italian literature, which, in connection with
her personal character and amiability, obtained for her
a numerous circle of admirers and friends. When all
hope of a brighter future for Italy seemed lost in the
sorrowful result of its struggle for freedom, Catharina
Ferucci wrote, with lacerated heart, but with firm love
and hope, her work for the moral and intellectual edu
cation of la donna Italiana. She wishes to educate
mothers in the young women who will give sons and
daughters to Italy — to elevate its life effectually, and to
make it noble and independent. She feels profoundly
that which is wanting in the Italian woman, and has a
deep conviction of the vocation of woman, and her
power as an educator, especially by example and influ
ence. As Beatrice awoke in Dante a vita nuova, which
led him to the highest virtues as citizen on earth, and
to a sight of the light and truth of heaven, as the silent
prayers and patient, steadfast love of Monica drew her
son Augustine from a life of earthly pleasure to a life
in God — so will the noble woman, in noble truth and the
highest love, also attract in our days the hearts of sons
and of man in general, to a life of virtue.
Like Madame Necker de Saussure, Catharina
Ferucci founds her doctrines of education upon the
impulse towards perfection, which she regards as a
main-spring in the human breast ; and she is less afraid
than the Swiss lady of extending the horizon of woman's
life and knowledge as far as this divine impulse may
require. The Swiss lady dwelt on a lake amongst lofty
walls of mountains ; the Italian dwells beside the vast
ocean, and nothing impedes her view into the far
distance. One peculiarity in Catharina Ferucci is the
importance she lays upon the young woman beinc

SIAMO NOI. 19
educated to a consciousness of citizenship — " to an
insight into that which causes the greatness or the fall
of nations, their honour or shame. The mother who
does not understand this, who does not herself
understand what is the true love of country, is not
capable of instructing her child in it. " It is peculiar
to her, also, as an Italian, to assign the part which she
does to the beautiful as a means of instruction in the
good and the right. Her views of the national in
education appear to me infinitely beautiful and true.
The individuality which, above all, belongs to a people,
from its country, scenery, history, natural character —
these are what every individual should learn to
understand, appropriate, and develop in beauty. It is
by this means that nations can first attain to the
purpose of their being, and fulfil the vocation given to
them of God. That which distinguishes the Italian
national character is, according to Catharina Ferucci,
the necessity to love God according to the doctrine of
the Gospel ; the necessity for wisdom, order, and beauty.
These high necessities are above all else peculiar to the
Italians. The satisfying of them is the condition of the
people's honour and happiness.
" Let us be ourselves," siamo noi, says she in
conclusion — " be that which we have been made by
God, by our climate, by the country which we inhabit,
by the great memories and the example of our
forefathers. Let us be ourselves, and not, by imitating
other nations, lose the sense of our own life and the
honour of Italy."
This is the principal theme of Catharina Ferucci,
often reiterated, always strongly and warmly expressed.
But, in order to acquire this national independence she
looks rather back to the ancient, honourable times, and
towards a religious concentration, than to the ideals
c2

20 ROSA FERUCCI.
of political independence and civil freedom which
Gioberti and Balbo uphold as the banner of Young
Italy, and which, most assuredly, at the present time,
constitute its highest wish and requirement.
Her writings on education are of a beneficial
character, especially from the influence which they
ascribe to woman, and the demand which they make
for a more thorough and a stronger education than
hitherto — a full development of her mind and
intelligence. "Such an education," says she, as says
also Louise Appia in the Waldenses valleys, " far from
fostering the innate vanity of woman, will tend to
destroy it. Vanity is nourished by the outward in life ;
it is the tendency of the egotistical soul. Intercourse
with noble spirits, and the pursuits of lofty aims, will
destroy this false fire and kindle one of an imperishable
nature." A " Typographical Publishing Society," of Turin, has
included her works for la donna Italiana in its
" Nuova Biblioteca Populare? and a new edition is now
being published — the best proof of its popularity.
It has been a great pleasure to me to make the
acquaintance of this noble woman, who, with her heart
bleeding from the misfortunes of her country, has raised
her head so courageously above these, to labour for its
more beautiful future. It was a pleasure to me to visit
her in Pisa, where her husband is the Professor of
ancient languages in the University. I found her,
however, bowed, with a broken heart, over a grave —
that of her only daughter, Rosa, then dead only a few
months. Catharina Ferucci tried her theory of female
education upon this daughter, and succeeded to her
heart's desire. As learned as her father in the ancient
languages, " so that she could have filled his place as
teacher," she was led by her mother into the realm of

HER MEMOIR BY HER MOTHER. 21
history, philosophy, and literature. Nature had en
dowed her with more than usual grace and talent ;
religion and the love of her parents developed the life
of her heart. At the age of twenty Rosa Ferucci was
as near to perfection as a young woman can be. She
was the darling of all — of her mother, her father, her
brothers, as well as their pride. She was betrothed to
a noble-minded young man, a physician, who was
devotedly attached to her, and the young couple were
shortly to have been married. She was attacked by a
fever, one of those fihvres milliaires, so fatal in this
country, which carried her off. The blooming, gifted
young woman, the daughter and the bride, was within
a few days a corpse.
The authoress, Catharina Ferucci, was now lost in
the sorrowing mother. Rosa had been her inspiration,
her ideal. Rosa was now no longer on the earth, and
the earth had become indifferent to her mother, who
now wished merely to die, that she might be near
her darling. She felt her powers daily declining, and
hoped soon to die. I spoke to her of the duty of living
for the future of Italy. Catharina Ferucci no longer
saw this future. It was closed to her by her daughter's
grave. Yet has this dejected mother raised to her
a monument, in the memoir which she has lately
published of her daughter, which ought to be more rich
in noble fruits than all her works on education. It is a
simple image of a lovely and gifted being, which will
move many hearts, and move them to follow in the foot
steps of the early perfected Rosa Ferucci. Her little
notes to her betrothed husband exhibit a soul in which
unusual earnestness is united to the most attractive
goodness and child-like grace. One sees her in the
home of her parents preparing herself with a pious
sincerity for her approaching marriage ; whilst, during

22 IMPEDIMENTS IN THE WAY.
the quiet evenings, she was arranging the materials
for a Biographical Church History, which was to be
the labour of her future. At the same time, she at
tended to her parents, her music, to the whole little
realm of home, ever glancing upwards to the Father
in heaven, to whom she dedicated her labour, her
love, and her whole life. Devotedness and His will
consoled her in death, and gave her the power to
speak words of consolation to the mourners around
her. Catharina Ferucci is a fervent Catholic ; and al
though she combines with her devotion to the creed of
her Church a discrimination unusual amongst Catho
lic women, it was evident to me that this prevented
her from obtaining the comfort and the strength that
she required. The many helpers, male and female,
between the human being and God, prevent the soul
from undividedly attaching itself to the only Mediator
between God and the soul, and prevent it from deriving
the treasure of consolation and light from His life,
death, and resurrection, which they impart. When we
have one good, all-sufficient Guide to the kingdom of the
Father, why take a number who are inferior? They
can merely become a hindrance on the way, if they do
not wholly mislead from it. That they mislead the
attention from the first and the only one is certain.
Thus, in the biography of Rosa Ferucci it is painful to
see how, in the anguish of her soul during the struggle
with death, and with her glance seeking for the
Saviour, she is exhorted by her priest " to commend
herself to Santa Agatha !"
The reformers who again led the Christian commu
nity to the Scriptures and to their living, Divine centre,
have restored them to the right path of the truth and
the life. But Catharina Ferucci understands as little

FLORENCE. 23
as most Catholics do, as yet, the principle of the refor
mation. I believe, however, that she will yet under
stand it ; and I would willingly remain here a longer
time merely to have the opportunity of more frequently
seeing and conversing with this noble, but unfortu
nate, woman, who now stands bowed over a grave.
With the Gospel in her hand she would raise herself
again. Florence, November \0th. — Beautiful, blooming Flo
rence, how unlike Pisa! All here is life, movement,
beauty ! The Arno has cleared its waters, green trees
shine forth gaily amongst the elegant houses, the splen
did churches and palaces; marble statues — forms of
beauty or pensive thought meet you everywhere, with
porticoes and bridges, beneath the blue vault of heaven.
The people swarm in crowds across the bridges and
squares, throng the streets and lanes — but cheerfully,
without confusion and disturbance : carriages are rolling
along incessantly, the sun shines with summer splendour
and life over the green hills and parks, amidst which
Florence stands like a flower of cities, affluent in beauty
and life enjoyment.
We have obtained good rooms in the Hotel New
York, by the Arno, and are delighted to be here, where
Jenny beams in emulation with everything that is gay
and beautiful around us.
November 22nd. — After nearly two weeks' residence
here and rambling about, I will collect the pure residue
of all that I have seen and heard. I term my " residue"
that which has entered into my soul, or fixed itself in
my memory, as an image or as knowledge, and which
from that moment becomes my property, a portion of my
inner world. In this, my inner world, there is a museum,
and in it a little cabinet of curiosities ; in my museum are

24 FIRST RAMBLE IN FLORENCE.
contained all sights and forms which strongly impress my
mind, and which arrange themselves as by an inner neces
sity ; there, too: is also a book, which I do not know how
to designate, but in which all that I have learned of man
kind, or of things in general, inscribe themselves without
my having any trouble therewith, and so that I can
thence derive a certain result for my truth-seeking
spirit. I believe, my R., that if thou wilt look carefully
into thyself, thou wilt also find a similar museum and a
similar book.
My first ramble in Florence was a little solitary ex
pedition of discovery, such as I always like to under
take in every new place, and in every city which is new
to me. I look about me in this way far better than
with a guide, and the objects converse with me at once
with freshness and power. I did not go far on this
first ramble; I stopped at a square, which is at the same
time a pantheon — for on every side stand tall, glorious
marble statues, with expressive heads of great indivi
duality and character, men interpreted by the master-
hand of art, which preserves the individuality whilst it
presents the ideal. I recognized many old acquaintances :
Dante, with the energetic countenance and nobly bitter
lineaments ; Michael Angelo Buonarotti and Benvenuto
Cellini, in whom rough strength is superior to beauty ;
Boccaccio, and Petrarch, who seems listening to gentle
and pleasant inspirations. Many forms were new to me :
as, for instance, Macchiavelli, with a countenance devoid
of beauty, but captivating from its expression of saga
city and keen sarcasm ; Galileo, with a splendid head, in
dicative of strong concentration and deep attraction to
the problems of physical creation. But all the forms
of artists, poets, thinkers, and warriors, seemed concen-
trated one and all upon their own special calling — whence
the indescribably strengthening and beneficial effect of

THE GREAT MEN OF THE PAST. 25
being amongst them. I found myself, without being
aware of it, in the court of the Uffizi Reale. In niches
all round, built in the walls, were placed on pedestals
the nobles and great men of Tuscany, and above them
smiled the bright heaven of their native land. They
now enjoyed a state of tranquillity and honour which
had not been granted to them during their lifetime.
I proceeded this day no farther. The following day I
spent in visiting museums and churches.
I derived the following impression from the Galleria
di Firenze. The ideal of beauty was high amongst the
Greeks and Romans ; but their actual humanity, at least
what we see of it, as represented in their historical cha
racters, is far below the ideal, and even far below the
standard, of beauty which is general amongst us at the
present day. The heroes of antiquity, the wise men
and emperors, are more frequently very ugly men, often
extremely repulsive. The women, the Julias, Faustinas,
&c, with a few exceptions, are in the highest degree of
an ordinary character, from simple beauty to pure ugliness.
Amongst the wise men of the Greeks, Plato is the only
one who has a noble head and a fine forehead ; amongst
the warriors, Alcibiades — but even this head is deficient
in the higher, nobler character; amongst the rulers,
Alexander the Great ; amongst the Roman emperors,
the eye rests gladly on the handsome and mild counte
nance of Augustus, and that of Antoninus Pius might
belong to a noble Christian ascetic ; in the features of
Marcus Aurelius we observe a calm beauty, but the
forehead is broad rather than lofty, and the expression
lacks depth and elevation. These, and two other great
men amongst the Romans, are exceptions in the multi
tude of heads of emperors and military commanders,
many of which are actually caricatures of humanity, al
though evidently excellent portraits. Such are Marius,

26 PICTURES OF THE GALLERIA DI FIRENZE.
Sylla, Claudius, Caracalla, &c. From all this it is
clear to me that the human race, at least the Christian
portion of it, has not ¦since this time deteriorated, but,
on the contrary, considerably increased in the beauty
and harmonious structure of the outward frame. The
form of the head has especially undergone a change.
For in the people of antiquity the forehead and upper
portion of the head were low, in particular amongst the
Romans, with whom the head has a square build, broad
rather than high. Amongst the modern cultivated na
tions the arch of the skull is considerably higher, so
likewise the forehead ; the opening of the eye is also
larger, and the whole countenance has a more beautiful
rounding and lovelier proportions, especially amongst
the women. And must it not be so ? A higher spirit
uality has taken up its abode in the human race ; must
it not therefore form for itself a dwelling in harmony
therewith ? The ideal has descended into reality, and
has elevated it to a resemblance with itself.
Of the pictures in the Galleria di Firenze I par
ticularly remember two, by one of the Dutch masters,
Honthorst — the pleasure of which increased with me
the more I studied them. They both represent the
birth of Christ ; they show the mother and the child
surrounded by persons who appear to be of the lower
class. But how natural these figures ! and what life in
the countenances! Mary is here no Raphaelesque
virgin of almost supernatural, bloodless beauty — she is
a young, loveable, earthly woman, who, still pale from
the suffering of childbirth, contemplates her heavenly
child with tearful, devout joy ; and the bystanders,
both young and old, who press forward also to gaze
upon it, half curious, half in admiration and joyful
presentiment — how they smile ! how they rejoice with
sincere naivete, which seems to enter into one's own

LA TRIBUNA. 27
soul only to behold. The light in these pictures is a
thing of beauty to me. It proceeds from the new-born
child, but without- visible rays. All the countenances
are illumined by this light, even some small angel
heads which peep forth out of the darkness up in the
roof, and who, too, also participate in the human joy.
These pictures are being copied by more than one
artist. Amongst the amateurs copying in the gallery
were several ladies, none of whom, it seems to me,
have more talent, or come near to that of the Swedish
artist, Sophie Adlersparre. Of the portraits I re
tain in memory are those of Alfieri — a proud but nobly
beautiful exterior — and his female friend, the Countess
of Albano — full of mild and womanly beauty. The
celebrated Bianca Capello appears on the canvas to be
a handsome woman, but of the ordinary simple charac
ter — loving pleasure and rule, but not of a noble na
ture. There is an apartment in this gallery which I never
yet entered without a sense of satisfaction, a feeling
which I will call Olympic peace. This apartment is
designated La Tribuna, and contains the choicest works
of art which are possessed by Florence. Let me add
to the abundant praise which has been given to the
beautiful rotunda, and the works of art which it con
tains, a word of grateful acknowledgment, because I
have so much enjoyed them. I have questioned with
myself whence proceeds this feeling of peace and satis
faction, in a room filled with so many dissimilar objects.
The magnificent proportions of the beautiful rotunda,
its splendid cupola, the harmonious light— all these con
tribute somewhat towards this effect ; but the principal
cause of it is this, that nearly all the statues and pic
tures it contains express a state of noble or beautiful
peace and life enjoyment — that they present the ideal of

28 MICHAEL ANGELO AND CIGOLI.
life in a moment of quiet prosperity. The Madonna
rests in the contemplation of her heavenly child,* the
child in the contemplation of the Father in heaven,
who regards with compassion even the fate of the spar
row; John in the vision which makes the desert bloom;
Apollo and Venus in the sense of their own beauty ;
fauns dance in their own vigorous pleasure of life ; and
the celebrated wrestlers, I Lottatori, contend evidently
only in noble sport or noble earnest. One can see in
him who is undermost that he will soon raise himself
again, and that he knows he shall. The Pope sits
calmly in the consciousness of his domination ; and
Charles V., on the shore of the stormy ocean, has a
pleasure in guiding his horse against the wind, and in
steadily keeping his seat, whilst yonder ships are tossed
by the waves. It may be necessary and important
that art should arrest and perpetuate even the transi
tory dissonances of human life, but the highest aim of
art must, however, be to represent the victory over
them, as well as life's ideal of truth or beauty.
I have retained from the splendid halls of the Pitti
Palace, for my inner museum, Michael Angelo's pic
ture of the " Three Fates," with secret astonishment that
the Titanic master has been able to produce forms so
gentle and beautiful — together with two pictures by
Cigoli. One of these, an Ecce Homo, I already knew
from an excellent copy by Miss Adlersparre ; another,
" The taking down from the Cross," was new to me,
and admirable. Cigoli's comprehension of Christ is
peculiar to him, and certainly nearer to the truth than
* La Madonna del Cordinello, the most beautiful picture which
I have yet seen by Raphael! The divine goodness expressed in
the countenance of the child Jesus, whilst he holds his hands over
the little bird and seems to say, " Not one of these is forgotten by
my Father," is beyond all description. — Author's note.

LA SPECOLA. 29
that of most of the great masters. He loves to paint
Christ as a beautiful young man, of a pure 'and noble
character. He loves to contrast this lofty purity, phy
sical beauty, and almost feminine delicacy, with coarser
or ordinary human figures. The portrait of Cigoli,
painted by himself, exhibits a refined, expressive coun
tenance, with a trait of deep, almost nervous, sensi
bility. From the great collection of portraits I have, for the
rest, merely retained in my memory the amiable, soul-
full likeness of Angelica Kauffman.
From the admirable mosaics which have here at
tained to the rank of the actual fine arts, I could not
but carry away with me a couple of tables — you under
stand, in that innocent and convenient mode, which still
leaves them where they are.
Let me now conduct you to La Specola, the museum
of natural science — because one more interesting and
instructive, I believe, is not to be met with. In the
vast, well-arranged collection of minerals, the rich bosom
of the earth is laid bare to our sight, so that we are filled
with amazement and admiration at its treasures. Ex
cellent representations in wax make us acquainted with
the inner structure of a multitude of plants, as well as of
various animals. Many halls are devoted to wax models
of the human figure, partly of the whole form, partly of
various outer and inner portions. These representa
tions are all coloured according to nature and the life.
It requires a degree of resolution to overcome a feeling
of repugnance against entering and remaining in this
room, where death and science united have laid bare
the physical machinery of the living human being.
But I wished to see it, and I did so, not without a feel
ing of pain, which continually mingled with that of in
terest and admiration. Probably this painful iinpres-

30 ANATOMICAL MODELS.
sion arises from the thought that these bodies, hearts,
chests, &c, in the living subject, could not be thus laid
open without immense suffering ; and the life-warm co
louring of flesh, veins, skin, &c, presents an incessant
illusion of life. This impression is, however, softened
by the regard, or rather the reverence, and piety, with
which these pictures are presented to the beholder.
Every separate portion of the body is laid upon a silken
cushion, part of them under glass. The whole form
lies the size of life upon white beds ; and whilst their
interior parts are revealed to the spectator, the expres
sion of the countenance seems to say, "For science
which enlightens, for art which heals." There is a pa
tient, devoted expression in these forms, which affected
me as something real and great. The female forms lie as
if sunk in magnetic sleep, and the artist has in this given
proof of sure 'tact and knowledge of human nature.
Woman cannot sacrifice her womanliness for science,
neither ought she. Most of their heads are young and
beautiful — the cheeks bloom, whilst the eye gazes in
fixed unconsciousness. Round the throat of one young
and beautiful female figure a string of glass beads has
been placed, and the hands play with the rich plaits of
hair, whilst the whole form from the throat downward is
opened, laid bare. Is this in derision? — it produced on
me a painful impression. I lingered with sincere ad
miration, contemplating the upper portion of the hu
man body, the structure of the veins, which, like the
many-branched crown of a tree, extend themselves
over the head; of the heart upon its crook between
the lungs, two mysterious wings ; of the eye, so beauti
fully projecting from its sheltering sockets. I endea
voured to neutralize the effect produced by these open
bodies, in the contemplation of their most significant
symbolic and prophetic parts, because the whole of na-

GALILEO. 31
ture is indeed represented there — mountains and rivers,
trees and flowers and animals — even physically man is
a microcosm, a little world, in which the great world is
represented or comprehended. The human body is a
rich symbolism, which awakens great thoughts and
presentiments ; and I repeated to myself the prophetic
words : Man has a natural body, man has also a spirit
ual body — "it is sown in corruption, it is raised in in-
corruption — it is sown in dishonour, it is raised in
glory!" I endeavoured to behold the new man on a new
earth, surrounded by all nature and the animal creation,
glorified like him, and through him. All this, however,
was not sufficient — the forms of death and corruption
had taken hold upon my mind ; three excellent but ter
rible pictures, also in wax, from scenes during the
plague in Florence, in the sixteenth century, completed
this melancholy impression, and it was in vain that I
went out into the open sunshine, into the animated
city — it was in vain that I lingered amongst the happy
and beautiful figures in the temple of La Tribuna — in
vain that I visited again andagain Galileo's Tribuna which
La Specola holds as her innermost sanctuary. I could
not for many days free myself from them.
A word now about this last-named Tribuna, which is
solely dedicated to the memory of Galileo, and one of
the most beautiful monuments to his memory. Those
beautiful paintings in fresco represent three principal
periods in his life. The first shows him in the cathe
dral of Pisa, at the moment when the movement of the
swinging lamp turned his mind to the mechanical law
which regulates the pendulum. The second, when he,
already certain of his scientific knowledge, and inspired
by it, demonstrates his discovery of the telescope be
fore the Doge Leonardo Donato and the Council of

32 " MA PUR SI MUOVE ! "
Ten in Venice. He is surrounded by inquisitive, ad
miring and envious men; but he heeds no one — he is oc
cupied, both body and soul, with his scientific truth
alone. The painting represents him as a short but
strono- figure, full of fire and life, with a round counte-
nance, and a good frank expression — the eyes, blue,
clear and large. In the third painting he appears as an
old man and blind — blind from having with too much
perseverance gazed into the phenomena of light. You
can trace in the old man's countenance the features and
life of the youth ; the blinded eyes are raised as if in
vestigating, whilst, with one hand placed upon a celes
tial globe, he points upwards, demonstrating to two
young men, his pupils, the laws of the heavenly bodies.
The form is still powerful, and an ermine cloak hangs
from the shoulders. You see, through the open door,
the clear blue sky and the mild countenance of a monk
looking into the room, watchful over the blind seer. It
is the warden and the friend who has been given to him,
when, after the period of persecution and imprisonment,
they afforded him an asylum in the beautiful villaD' Arce-
tri, near Florence, which since then has been called La
Gioiello. They have intentionally omitted, amongst
the pictured memorials of his life, that moment which
is perhaps the most remarkable of all, when in order to
free himself from imprisonment in the Romish Inquisi
tion, he denied his assertion that the earth moved round
the sun, which the wise fathers in Rome regarded as a
contradiction of the doctrine of Scripture — but imme
diately after the denial he protested against it, and, as
if compelled by his genius, stamped upon.the earth and
exclaimed, " Ma pur si muove 1 " (but it turns after all ! )
What an exquisite subject for a picture.
In the rotunda, lighted from above, which arches
over these pictures, and the white marble statue of

RECOGNITION OF HER GREAT MEN BY FLORENCE. 33
Galileo, are preserved all his instruments ; even the
forefinger of his right hand, encircled with a gold ring,
and pointing upwards, is here shown under a glass case.
All Galileo's astronomical discoveries are pourtiayed in
gilded bas-relief, on the vaulted roof, which is painted
blue. Around him are ranged busts of the men who,
during his lifetime, were his patrons or friends, and
most distinguished pupils. The walls are of white
marble, covered with tasteful arabesques of flowers and
birds, which seem surrounding the instruments of
science, as if to pay them homage. The marble pave
ment presents a large mosaic picture of two figures, the
one holding a torch, the other deeply occupied in the
solution of a mathematical problem. Below are the
words " provando e riprovando."
This beautiful little memorial-temple produces a satis
factory impression, not alone of the life of the scientific
man, but of the honour and gratitude which, after all,
is commonly, though it may be late, shown towards
him by posterity.
One cannot, at the present time, reproach Florence
for not honouring the great man who contributed to
her honour. It is the inhabitants of this city who
raised, by voluntary contributions, the beautiful mar
ble statues in the Loggia dei Uffizi; it is they also who
united with the government of Tuscany in endeavour
ing to preserve and collect everything which belonged to
the memory of these great men, the friends of the
fatherland. In the same spirit they lately requested
from Ferrara everything which belonged to Dante,
every letter or piece of writing from his hand. But
Ferrara has replied, not without a bitter significance,
that she possessed nothing which the great exile had left
behind him excepting — his grave.
During the stranger's rambles through the streets of
TOL. II. D

34 THE HOUSE OF MICHAEL ANGELO.
Florence he observes many houses bearing inscriptions
in gilded letters. On one he reads, " Here lived and
died the prince of tragedy, Vittorio Alfieri!" on
another, "Here dwelt Macchiavelli ! " on a third,
"Here lived Dante!" and so on. Nearly all these
houses have, in the meantime, passed out of the hands
of the former great possessor's family, and nothing
speaks of them excepting the inscriptions outside. The
house of Michael Angelo Buonarotti has alone remained
as it was in the time of the great artist, furnished and
decorated by himself. It belongs at the present time
to one of his descendants, a Buonarotti, now minister
of finance in Tuscany. The house is shown to
strangers twice in the week, and I, too, went accord
ingly to see it. The exterior of the house is not
remarkable ; it is now so closely built round by other
houses that the rooms are, in consequence, darkened.
These rooms are full of the great artist's life, and alto
gether too much of its deification. His pupils have
represented scenes from his life in a number of pictures.
The rooms, which are many, though small, contain
numerous pieces of sculpture and sketches from the
hand of the great master, and many precious pieces of
furniture and other things ; the smallest space is every
where made use of, and decorated with a kind of artistic
coquetry. In the chapel is a small figure of Christ, in
bronze, by Benvenuto Cellini, as it is said ; and in the
innermost small room a portrait of Michael Angelo,
painted by himself, and a bust from the mask taken
immediately after his death. These present a face
devoid of beauty and even of nobility ; the nose is flat
and broad, but in the expression of the countenance
and the compressed lips you can see " those thousand
devils" which the Swedish sculptor, Sergei, required
as a proof of true genius. Michael Angelo was of a

SAVONAROLA. 35
militant nature in his art, and his character and temper
were not without the rough, almost savage, strength
which one reads in his countenance. He passed
through many a bitter struggle during his life ; but he
was, at the same time, mighty in the lofty and tender
feelings. His love of his country was great and strong,
and his love for the noble woman and poetess, Vittoria
Colonna, Marchioness % of Pescara, was of the most
beautiful and noblest kind. His sonnets to her betray
a feeling of the most profound earnestness and sin
cerity. No wonder was it that the lovely woman
returned his devotion with warm friendship and
admiration. The most interesting of the rooms is
Buonarotti's dining-room, upon all the walls of which
he himself painted, in his spirited manner, the cele
brated men of Tuscany in different groups. On one
wall you see the philosophers, on another men devoted
to natural science — Galileo is seen, in a sudden start of
joy, gazing through his telescope — on a third are
shown theologians and philologists — on the fourth poets
and literary men. These last wear laurel wreaths
round their heads, and are surrounded by palm-trees
and leaping fountains ; amongst them you recognize
Dante, Petrarch, Boccaccio. In the background stands
Savonarola, regarding with a gloomy look the gar
landed poets. His powerful countenance bears a
resemblance to that of Luther; and there was some
thing of Luther's pure zeal and vigorous appearance in
Savonarola. He dared to stand up against the pope,
and the popedom, then in the deepest decline. The
evil life of Alexander VII. fired him to preach up pure
living and a Christian art. He condemned, with fer
vent, but often gloomy, eloquence, all worldly art and
worldly enjoyment — he would have converted the
whole world into a house of prayer. The people
D2

36 PIAZZA DEL GRAN' DUCA.
flocked to him, bringing to him many precious books,
instruments, pictures, &c, which were burned by his
orders. He combated against the pope, but the pope
was stronger than the reformer, and Savonarola's pile
was raised in the same place, Piazza del Gran' Duca,
in Florence, where he burned the trophies of worldly
art. Even at the close of the last century the place
where he suffered martyrdom might be seen covered with
garlands of flowers. Not fifty years after him another
monk — Luther — was to rise, who should carry out his
protest to victory, yet with a more enlightened zeal,
and sustained by princes and people awakening to the
knowledge of the right, of conscience and of truth.
The custodian who showed us through the house
was an old servant in the Buonarotti family, and a true
type of those old family dependents, who make the
honour of the family their own. He had a deep
feeling of the honour and grandeur of the Buonarotti
family, and was quite angry when he thought it were
not fully recognized.
"The Buonarotti had been great men in all ages;
they had in all ages been rulers and governors, as
gonfaloniere or artists ; and so are they still, because
the present Buonarotti is minister, and rules the state."
A marble bust of the latter, together with one of his
wife, shows a head of considerably more beauty than
that of the great ancestor.
Piazssa del Gran' Duca! Let us pause here a mo
ment, for it is the scene of the great historical memories
of Florence ; it is the square where stand some of its
greatest monuments: the Palazzo Vecchio, the Loo-cria
dei Lanzi, the beautiful fountain of Neptune, the
statue of Cosmo I. on horseback, as well as many
works of art from the times of the republic. Thus it
is, also, that the popular life still exhibits itself in its

THE CATHEDRAL. 37
most manifold variety. The post-office and many of
the public buildings are there ; wealthy bankers have
there their places of business, and there facchini and
lazzaroni enjoy the sunshine, lying on or standing by
the marble steps and the statues.
The Palazzo Vecchio stands as a magnificent symbol
of the bold aspirings of the ancient republic. Its tower
seems to me especially expressive. It is a fortress-
tower, which supports a triumphal entrance, upon
which is erected a pyramid. On the flag-staff which
terminates this leaps a lion rampant, and on the top is
a lily. But ah ! this last symbol, the summit of all, is
an unfaithful image of the life of the republic, at least
of the Florentine. Its fortress-gate, the gate of honour,
its pyramidal ascent, never attained to the success of
peace. It was hurled to pieces long before, in the
struggles which were called forth by the ambitious
aspiring of the republic itself ; was hurled down by
party spirit, which is the life of the republic, and which
becomes also its death, when it is not guided by some
noble cementing idea, greater than the discord inherent
in the state itself. The history of the Palazzo Vecchio,
and its symbolical tower, prove that there was no such
lofty idea in the Florentine republic.
The cathedral of Florence, and the beautiful cam
panile, dating also from this period of great but ego
tistical endeavour, was built with the design — such was
the bidding of the republic of Florence — " of being the
largest and most splendid building which it was in
human power to erect — and so perfect that nothing
more beautiful or larger could be thought of; it must
be made in accordance with a very great heart {ad
un cuore grandissimo), because it is decided upon by
most of the citizens, united in one will." The master
builder, Arnolfo, knew, it is said, how to accord with

38 "- SASSO DI DANTE."
this will, and the building was commenced in 1298.
But Arnolfo died long before his work was completed ;
and whether it were that something of the aims of the
ancient tower of Babel inspired the building of the
Florentine cathedral, and made it participant of the
fate of the tower of Babel, or any other cause, certain
it is that it remains unfinished at the present day, and
probably will so remain. Every separate portion in
the great design is in beautiful harmony with the
whole, and is in itself a perfected piece of beauty ; as,
for example, each several window is an individual
entity of beauty and taste. But the whole farther side
of the church looks like a bankrupt.
On one side of the square, in which the cathedral
stands, a white marble seat is built into the wall, on
which is inscribed, " Sasso di Dante." Here Dante used
to sit, contemplating the building of the cathedral, and
perhaps obtaining from its beautiful proportions in
spirations for his " Commedia Divina," or perhaps watch
ing for a glimpse of that Beatrice who was able to inspire
him with new life, merely from the fact that he saw
her, and that she was beautiful, noble, and kind. Thus
she became his heavenly ideal. Thus we behold him,
her, and his love in his "Vita Nuova."
The lofty campanile stands near the cathedral, like
an independent work of art, completed in its lovely
mosaic attire of many-coloured clothing, and shines
therefrom in the light of the sun, so that one might
fancy one saw some wonderful gigantic flower. It is
also called Santa Maria del Fiore.
These works of art and the bronze gates of the
Baptistry, upon which Lorenzo Ghiberti worked for
fourteen years, and which Michael Angelo Buonarotti
said were worthy to form the gates of Paradise,* are
* But a paradise a la Buonarotti, "who belonged more to the old

TUSCANY LONGS FOR INDEPENDENCE. 39
memorials of the time when the Signoria of Florence
extended itself, not merely within the territory of the
state, but also within that of art and science. "At
this period," says Macchiavelli, " our city was in a con
dition of unparalleled prosperity and success. She
was affluent in people, treasure, and honour; she pos
sessed thirty thousand citizens capable of bearing arms,
to which seventy thousand might still be added from
the country. The entire population of Tuscany obeyed
her, partly as subjects, partly as allies ; and although
distrust and hatred prevailed between the nobles and
the people, yet so far no evil results had followed, but
all lived united and at peace.
But this peace did not last long. Nobles and
people, Guelphs and Ghibellines, white and black,
interrupted it, by contentions which became sanguinary
war; private family -quarrels brought scenes of war
into the district of the city, and they fought for life
and death in the streets of Florence from one ten years
to another; and thus sunk, after flourishing for two
centuries, the Florentine republic, which the princes of
trade, the Medici, conducted to its highest perfection
and to its fall. After this Florence was ruled by
foreign princes, and became, together with Tuscany, a
ball tossed about at the will of foreign rulers. Its re
publican liberty was fettered under an absolute govern
ment. It was its good fortune that this government
was a comparatively mild one, the mildest, it has been
asserted, in Italy. It is so at the present moment, and
the princes of the house of Austria are said to have
been, and still to be, paternally-minded rulers of the
country. Notwithstanding, the Tuscan people have
never ceased to long for the former independence, and
to endeavour to regain it.
covenant than the new, where the warlike march of the children of
Israel and their battles are represented. —Author's note.

40 PROTESTANISM IN TUSCANY.
Tuscany belongs to the Italian states which were
unsuccessful in their struggle for liberty in 1848, and
is now, as I have heard from experienced men, more
than formerly subjected to the caprices of the govern
ment. This government is neither loved nor obeyed
from love, but rather from fear, therefore imperfectly.
Nevertheless, the present Grand Duke is rather a mild
than a severe ruler, and Tuscany, during the latter half
of this century, has variously advanced in the direction
which is the peculiar excellence of our time. Already
had the French administration under Napoleon the
Great produced beneficial reforms in the laws and con
stitution, as well in Tuscany as in other of the Italian
states ; and as a result of the ideas which took pos
session of men's minds during the revolution of 1848,
many acts of arbitrary power which had hitherto been
practised by rulers were now no longer possible, and
many liberties were allowed because the government
was afraid of the fire which was yet alive under the
ashes. The penal laws have been considerably miti
gated, and Tuscany has obtained a certain degree even
of the freedom of the press. It is true that there is
no considerable political newspaper published here, but
the English and French papers circulate freely, and we
all know what a breath of freedom comes into circula
tion with them.
Religious Protestant proselytism is strictly forbidden,
but it nevertheless goes on in all kinds of silent ways,
and the number of Protestants is said to be very much
on the increase. Ever since the affair of the Madiai,
the government and people of Tuscany have been mu
tually circumspect in their treatment of the fiery ques
tion of the liberty of conscience and creed. People
meet quietly in families and private houses to read to
gether the Gospel, and to edify themselves with its

GROWTH OF THE TRUTH THERE. 41
doctrines of love and liberty. The Duke is aware of
it, but he shuts his eyes to the fact. He is said to
have avowed his knowledge of there being twenty-five
thousand secret Protestants in his states, but so long as
they do not openly appear he will not recognize their
existence.* Probably this silent increase is the best means for
the religious development of Tuscany. Religious as
well as popular liberty consists- of ideas which grow
even whilst they are checked, and which can be checked
only until they have grown strong. They know this,
the thoughtful patriots of Tuscany, and they have a
firm hope in a latter day which is coming. But it is to
be deplored that popular education is altogether in the
hands of the priests, because they take good care to
require only such an education as will multiply its
otherwise supreme power ; and the people, ignorant,
and therefore unreflecting, console themselves too easily
* Amongst those who have more latterly openly avowed their
opinions is a Venetian Count, " a descendant of one of the Doges
of Venice," and a Count Guicciardini of Florence, who in conse
quence has been obliged to leave the city with his family. The
reading of the Holy Scriptures made him a Protestant against the
Roman Catholic Church, and he has united himself to the Italian
evangelical body, which is at this moment represented by De Santis
in Turin, and by Mazzarella in Genoa. This Church, which as yet
refrains from more closely laying down a formula of faith, and
satisfies itself by studying the Bible, diffusing its sacred writings,
preaching the Gospel, and following its commands, is at the pre
sent time the peculiarly proselytizing church of Italy. You meet
with its members and small communities, not alone in the cities of
Piedmont, but also in Florence, Imola, Bologna, Ferrara, and
likewise in Milan and Venice. The organization of the commu
nity resembles that of the Darbyites. Every male member has a
right to preach as well as to comment upon the Scriptures. They
speak according to inspiration. A true Italian mode. — Author's
note.

42 THE WANT IN ITALY.
with festivals and fruits of the earth, for want of the
nobler rights of humanity.
That which the true friends of their country here —
as well as in Piedmont, and, it may indeed be said, as
well as the cultivated Italian community at large —
desire for Tuscany, above all things, is, not a realm and
a power like those of the middle ages — that splendid
blossom, rather of beauty and prosperity than of moral
nobility, not unlike the cathedral of Florence, a work
of art in form and outward covering, but imperfect and
inwardly empty, — they want not this, for their ideal is
one far more inward, far higher.. But I will, once for
all, let one of the noblest sons and lovers of Italy ex
press this. ' Thus says Cesare Balbo, in his " Speranze
d'ltalia," eleventh chapter : —
"That in which Italy is deficient, if not wholly so,
yet certainly comparatively so, is a stern, strong, effec
tual virtue. I say that it is deficient in this in compa
rison with other Christian nations, our contemporaries :
with England, although she is not Catholic ; with
France, although she proceeds from the revolution ; with
Germany even, who is our ruler, which is our great
misfortune. And these nations, who are heretics in
dogmas, or on some moral points, do they not possess
the whole treasure of Christian morality, which is the
foundation of every virtue, every advance in morality
and culture ? As far as regards revolutions, I do not
call that an immoral people who enter into them, if
they at the same time know how again to come out of
them. And I appeal to all those Italians who know
these three foreign nations, by having lived amongst
them as exiles, long and quietly, in their capitals, and
in families in the provinces. Do they not, spite of their
love for their country, tell us, and tell us with a sacred
envy, of the morality and the unity in these families ;

HOW SHE HERSELF IS SUPPLYING IT. 43
of the industry, the strength, the earnestness in morals
and in society ? And what, indeed, on the other hand,
do the foreigners who write about us, the lovers and
commenders of Italy, say ? — a Goethe, a De Stael, a
Byron, a Lamartine, and others similar — what do they
say ! Do they not praise Italy as the soil of the olive
and the orange, and for that beautiful sky, those hand
some women, that delicious air ! It is for these alone
that they love her, that they praise her. Oh, shame !
when they, wearied with their grave thoughts, come to
sun themselves there as in a garden, a public square,
open to whosoever will. They praise also our genius —
our lively, flexible, manifold genius — and in this they
are right. But of our virtues — who speaks of them ?
Who is not silent regarding them ? Even these our
admirers ! But to maintain silence on the virtue, whilst
they exalt the intelligence, that is the most treacherous
of praise and the most biting accusation ! "
How severe soever this noble friend of his country
may be against that very country which he loves so
much, yet he is equally hopeful for its future.
" Italy has lived long on unsuccessful attempts at re
volution, on outward spectacle, and petty love intri
gues, and an infinity of gossip which these have furnished,
for want of nobler subjects. But a better time is com
ing, nay is already come. Family life, that innermost
sanctuary of the life of the state, has purified itself.
Cicesbeoism is becoming more and more a rare and
strongly-censured phenomenon. The Italian women
have awakened to a sense of their duties towards their
families, and even towards society. The cultivated be
gan to take an active part in the education of their in
digent sisters, in giving them instruction and work ; and
independent labour of women is one of our century's
greatest social benefits. The seed which the strug-

44 THE STAND-POINT FOR TUSCANY.
gle for freedom in the year 1848 sowed in the soul of
the nation shall not perish. When Italy gains indepen
dence and unity she will shoot forth into new life.
" Christian nations may fall sick, but not die."
How pure are these ideas ! A kingdom of justice,
goodness, and morality, founded on the free decision of
the people of the nation itself, which is the aim of all
free people — this it is which Tuscan patriots desire
for their land and people. And this beautiful Tuscany,
remarkable also for the good-heartedness and natural
amiability of its people, seems well worthy to be con
ducted to such a noble fate. But must the people for
this purpose become of necessity a free, a self-deter
mined people ? Most assuredly, if it is to become free,
and to advance to the accomplishment of the grand
object. There are virtues, which may be acquired un
der pupilage — nay, indeed, which require it, as
during a period of education ; but there are also virtues,
and some of the highest, which never can be acquired,
excepting by the nobly dangerous lot of independence
and self-responsibility. This applies to the individual
man, as well as to the nation. And the most paternally
kind government cannot compensate for that which is
lost, if the individual who has inwardly attained to man's
estate be prevented from asserting his right in his social
condition, if he be compelled in this also to remain in a
state of pupilage. And this ought soon to be the
stand-point taken by Tuscany.
I have unfortunately been unable to meet with
Abbe Lambruschini and Signor Buoncompagni, two dis
tinguished Tuscan gentlemen, who have laboured much
for a better state of popular education, and to whom
I had letters of introduction from persons in Turin,
because both are now residing in the country — fanno
la villegiatura. I have nevertheless had the opportunity of

GUERAZZI AND GIUSTI. 45
conversing with some of the most deep-thinking Tus
can patriots, who have aided me in acquiring a better
knowledge of the present condition of the country.
I had a great wish to become acquainted with the
poet Nicolini, the author of the tragedy, "Arnoldo da
Brescia," who lives in Florence, where the Grand Duke
gave him an asylum, and also a situation in the library,
at the time when he was under prosecution, and would
otherwise have been imprisoned in Rome, on account of
his liberal opinions and anti-papal writings. But Nico
lini, I was told, had become misanthropic and melan
choly, and did not like to see strangers. I respected his
unwillingness ; but, oh ! how gladly would I have re
peated to the noble poet, now tormented with the
scruples of conscience on account of his authorly ac
tivity, his own heroic words in " Arnoldo " — " Io forse
errai, meglio e errar che fermarsi ! "
Amongst the latest most distinguished poets and
writers of Tuscany are Guerazzi and Giusti. The
former is a proud and vigorous champion of freedom,
of a bitter and caustic spirit. He is the author of seve
ral novels, written in the spirit of the time, as " La Bat-
taglia di Benevento," "L'Asseduta di Firenze" and many
others, which are greatly esteemed. The Italians call
him the mathematician of liberty, because he measures
out political rights so accurately ; whilst Mazzini, on the
contrary, is designated il conspiratore della liberta, the
conspirator of liberty. Guerazzi lives in Turin, and
still writes. His last political satire, " LJAsino" " The
Ass," has attracted considerable attention.
Giusti is a lyrical poet. He also is bitter, but only
as it proceeds from the most ardent love for eternal jus
tice and truth. Nothing can be more caustic than his
satire ; as, for example, in "The Old Youth," and "The
Political Weathercock." Nothing more profound or

46 LEOPARDI.
more delicious than his love, as in the epistle to un arnica
contana, to una madre ; nothing nobler than his self-cri
ticism — as, for instance, in the poem to his friend Gino
Capone. One sees in all his writings that the main
thought of his soul is the struggle for freedom and
future of Italy. This gifted poet, who enriched the
literary Italian language with a great number of words,
which he had adopted from the various dialects of the
provinces, died whilst still young, as I have heard,
heart-broken by the unsuccessful revolution. This pro
foundly sensitive poetic nature could not survive the
ruin of its noblest anticipations.
Leopardi is the name of another Tuscan poet, and
distinguished learned man, who was early garnered by
death, after a brief life of great suffering. The condi-
tion of this young noble is said to have been remark
able, and his facility in imitating the old classical poets
marvellous. His view of life I can only deplore ; it is a
night without the crimson flush of morning. Suffering
and pain are to him ever enduring, the only reality ! The
unfortunate young man reflected the world in his own
condition ; of life he experienced little — excepting afflic
tion. It would be interesting to know his biography,
and also what it was which prevented the earnest
thinker from embracing a doctrine which would have
removed the sting from death, and from suffering its
suicidal hopelessness.
I must, in conclusion, say a few words about our en
joyment in Florence. I now say our, and that is a plea
sure to me.
One day we drove with many others, in the beauti
ful park, 11 Cascino, in the peninsula formed by the
junction of the Arno and Mugnone, a very fine prome
nade, on which we saw a good part of the elegant

FIESOLE. 47
world of Florence, both in carriages and on horseback.
There were not many pedestrians, on the contrary ; and
the park, with its beautiful trees, is not to be compared
to the Djurgard of Stockholm, because the wild wooded
mountains are wanting. The flower-girls, celebrated in
Florence for their beauty, threw lovely flowers into the
carriages; but were themselves less lovely, and less
agreeable, from the pertinacity with which they pressed
their flowers upon us. Yet even this was done cheer
fully, and not without grace.
Another day we drove to Fiesole, the city which for
merly held sway over Florence, but which has now only a
glorious and magnificent view over that city. Dozens
of not ill-clad women surrounded us here, and perse
cuted us with an unwearied urgency which was dis
tressing, because it resembled the urgency of want. I
inquired in the evening at the banker, Mr. F.'s, if such
want did really exist ? And I was told, " Yes, pro
bably, because the straw-plat had of late considerably
fallen in value, and could not find purchasers ! "
Young, well-born Italian women were sitting the
whole evening at the card-table. I wondered whether
they had any idea of the condition of the straw-platting
women in their neighbourhood.
Another day we drove to Belloguardo, one of the
high hills which surround the valley. How beauti
fully shone the red roses by the way, against the
blue sky background; and what a splendid view on
the ascent and on the summit. Florence shone out in
the setting sun like a flaming, golden rose set in the
fertile valley of the Arno ; and the river wound, like a
silver scarf, around its walls.
One evening we heard Verdi's opera, " II Trovatore,"
fine voices and not bad music, but, alas ! what execution !
Hard, without light and shadow, without feeling — un-

48 STREETS OF FLORENCE.
musical. Has the genius of music fled from Italy to
the north ? It is preferable to go to the theatres of
Alfieri and Goldoni than to the opera in Florence.
Not one of the least enjoyments here in the city is
•wandering along its streets, squares, and bridges, and
watching the life of the people — devoid, it is true, of
any marked peculiarity, but full of life and movement.
There is a crowd, but you easily make your way, and
you hear no coarse language, although the exterior of
the working people is often very ill-conditioned.
Begging is strictly forbidden, but many things besides
are here also forbidden ; and there are many beggars,
but not pertinacious like those of Pisa. Fruits and
flowers abound at every street corner. There are many
shops for the mosaic-work, full of admirable produc
tions in this beautiful art, which is carried on to a
great extent in Florence, and with a taste peculiar to
its people.
You often come upon splendid private palaces, but
so built up by other houses, that it is not until you are
quite close to them that you are aware of having a
grand seigneur before you amongst the buildings. Of
many handsome churches and other works of art I
shall now say nothing, because the time fails me to
observe them more closely, and six months would not
be sufficient to become well acquainted with the trea
sures of art and science which this flower of cities
contains. They do not, however, constitute the
highest interest for me in Italy, and the year draws
towards its close. I therefore leave the beautiful
Florence, leave Milan and Venice, Bologna and Fer
rara, to another time, perhaps till my return home, and
hasten to prepare for myself and my young friend com
fortable winter quarters in Rome, the "eternal city,"
the centre of Italy, anciently of the civilized world.

49

ELEVENTH STATION.
In Rome — First Impression— First Rambles in Old and New
Rome — The Pope —The Last Judgment — Church Festivals-
Drawing- Room Life — Faith in Miracles — The Catacombs— A
Poetess — Christmas Day in the Vatican — Child Preachings—
St. Paulo Fuori de Mure — Attempt at Conversion — A Little
of Everything — Close of the year 1857.
Rome, in December. — " It is singular," exclaimed the
pleasant voice of Jenny, "but the first feeling which
I experience in Rome is hunger."
" And I confess that I am looking forward with the
greatest satisfaction to a cup of coffee ! " said our tra
velling companion in the coupe, a young Englishman,
and a gentleman.
I acknowledged that I wished for nothing more than
for a cup of tea !
These were our first feelings in the eternal city,
where we sat waiting in the diligence on the Piazza del
Popolo, after having given up our passports at the city
gate. It was late in the evening. Before us three
long streets opened fan-like, glimmering with light ; on
the square just before us rose an obelisk, like, a huge
shadow ; at a little distance gleamed forth two cupolas,
VOL. II. E

50 AGAIN AT PISA !
and above the square, and above us, Jupiter shone
brightly in the sky. After half-an-hour's delay we
drove to La Dogano — escaped having our luggage opened
in consideration of a small fee ; and at length, towards
midnight, had the enjoyment of food and rest at the
Hotel della Minerva.
And now a word regarding our journey hither.
We left Florence by railway, and hoped in three
hours to reach Sienna. Towards the close of the
three hours we behold objects which denote a city, but
— most extraordinary ! — these objects appear to us as
familiar as if we had seen them lately; and there — is
there not ? — yes, actually a leaning tower. Oh,
horror ! We are at Pisa ! The negligent conductor
of the railway train had forgotten to tell us when the
line branched off for Sienna. What was to be
done? There was nothing for it but to remain at Pisa,
until a train some hours later went thence to Sienna.
But the sun shone; the functionaries at the railway
were particularly kind and sympathetic in our fate, and
leaving our luggage in their charge we resolved not
only to take the whole thing coolly, but cheerfully and
easily. We therefore again went up into the city,
which now in the sunshine looked quite different to
what it did when we last left it. Many well-dressed
people were walking in the streets ; there were fewer
beggars, and those not so importunate, and the Arno
reflected back the brightness of the sun. I again saw
the Leaning Tower, and Catharina Ferucci. All
looked brighter, even the sorrowing mother. She had
resumed her work, and that with a smile upon her
agreeable, expressive countenance. We talked and
disputed a little about Catholicism and the evangelical
„ doctrine, but in a friendly spirit. Catharina Ferucci

THE LADY AND HER PHYSICIAN. 51
as little understands as most Catholics do what this
latter doctrine really is. I am pleased, however, to see
her a little more cheerful. Blessed be work !
At four o'clock in the afternoon we were again
seated, Jenny and I, in the railway carriage, now in
the firm belief of arriving at Sienna before night.
Near to us in the carriage was seated a very elegant,
closely-veiled lady, and beside her a handsome young
man, with a dark Italian countenance.
Jenny's irresistible, youthful laugh at our travelling
gui-pro-quo attracted to her the attention of the
travelling couple, and the words E bella ! bellissima !
were exchanged between them. The veiled lady asked
questions in French, which we replied to by com
municating our little adventure; this led to other
questions, and other communications — such as, that
Jenny was not my daughter, but a young friend ; that
we were intending to go to Rome, and so on; and all
my replies were immediately whispered confidentially
in Italian to the young man, who remained silent but
observant. We learned from the Italian lady that she
had left her husband in Genoa, I believe, and was
going to her father's, the Marquis of  in order that
at his castle among the Apennines she might have the
benefit of a change of air, which her health required ;
and that she was attended thither by her physician.
She threw back her veil, and displayed a pale coun
tenance, with delicate features and intellectual ex
pression, but not indicative of health either of soul or
body. It was evident enough that we beheld before us
in this couple one of those cicisbeoesque relationships,
which are more renowned than honourable in the love-
chronicles of Italy. The delicate lady, who gave her
self out as five-and-twenty, but seemed to be older,
had both the manners and mode of expression
e2

52 AT SIENNA.
which unmistakably betray the culture of the refined
world. At the hotel in Sienna we met with a young Prince
Colonna, a handsome and well-bred man. He was an
engineer on some railway — which I will endeavour to
remember ¦ — in Piedmont ; and I note down this
circumstance, because I accept it as a sign that the
young nobles of Italy are beginning to understand the
honour of labour.
It was dark when we reached Sienna, but we had
the opportunity of looking about us in the city for a
good hour, the following morning before the diligence
set off for Rome ; for from this point there are no more
railways southward, and this morning was a real
festival. The sun shone and lit up the vast and
splendid landscape, which the elevated situation of the
city affords, especially from its grand promenade,
under the most beautiful of trees, beneath which stood
white marble seats. Everything here was calm and
beautiful; beyond, all was grand and open, tempting
the mind to sweep round like the eagle and rest upon
its wings. We went into the cathedral, the most
beautiful which I have yet seen in Italy. The quire
resembles a sacred grove of lofty columns, under the
arch of which it is good to wander, to sit, to think, and
to elevate the mind. In whatever direction one looks
one sees beautiful or significant objects. The whole
church is a poem ; the stones speak and blossom forth.
I have never felt in any catholic church the sublimity
of their symbolism so much as in this.
At noon we set off, packed together in the coupe of
the diligence, in a manner more suitable for herrings
than for human beings, and which, during the night,
became a perfect torment. But the night was
beautiful; and as my inconvenient position, and the

A NIGHT AND DAY S JOURNEY. 53
postilion's knocking on the carriage window at every
station to demand his drink-money, took away all
possibility of sleep, I busied myself with observing
every nocturnal alternation of darkness and light, a
spectacle which I had never hitherto seen in perfection.
The first rosy tints on the brightening night-heaven
were of enchanting beauty. At this moment we were
driving along the heights, not far from the romantically
situated lake of Bolsena, celebrated for its ancient
mysteries, and for the undiminished beauty of its banks.
The country and the features of the early dawn were
charming. The morning star slid down towards the
east, paling by degrees in the young day's increasing
light, and the earth lay silent like a slumbering, un
peopled world, as if it were still the morning hour of
paradise, before the time of Adam and Eve, and their
restless children !
During the whole of the following day, grand,
expansive views over the country, which extended in
long stretching waves of naked mountains and wooded
hills, calm, harmonious, softly waving outlines. Very
few villages, and fewer towns — none near the road.
The region frequently resembled a desert, and became
ever more like it the nearer we approached Rome.
Not a movement on the roads, not even of robbers, of
whom we had been warned ; and we should have
been an easy prey for them in this desert. All is
desolate, silent, as if deserted in this wild region,
where, at the same time, the oak grows to a large
size. Thus we went on, mile after mile, hour after
hour, through the demesne of the Church, but with ever
these same expansive views ! One wa3 never wearied
of contemplating them. At length twilight and
silence enveloped them ; the desolation continued, and
now it felt wearisome and long. All at once we behold

54 WE ARE IN ROME !
high-arched gates ; walls and towers rise in mystic
altitude around us. We drive through a large archway,
and — we are in Rome !
During the first week I thought of little besides
finding rooms, and of settling myself and my young
friend down in our winter quarters. I made, however,
meantime, two rambles of discovery of another kind, of
which I must say a few words. Adhering to my love
of rambling and looking about me in every place,
independently and on my own account, I bought a map
of Rome, which I studied. One day, therefore, when I
was out, busied with the mundane business of seeking
for a dwelling on the Corso, Via Condotti, Piazza di
Spagna, and many other parts of modern Rome, which
constitute the foreigners' quarter, I was seized with a
hungering and thirsting after the sight of something
large and grand ; and leaving the noisy new Rome,
with its numerous shops and crowds of people, I
wandered away into old Rome. I knew the way by
my map. Thus I came to the Capitol, ascended the
Tarpeian Rock by a flight of steps, and went down on
the other side. There, before my eyes, opened a deep
immense grave, and out of the grave rose a city of
monuments in ruins, columns, triumphal arches, temples
and palaces, broken, ruinous, but still beautiful and
grand — with a mournful, solemn beauty ! It was the
giant apparition of ancient Rome. Here was the Forum,
where the Gracchi, those first great tribunes of the
people, spoke for the rights of the people ; up yonder, the
Capitol, where Cicero awoke the fervour of the Roman
Senate, for the true greatness of Rome — places, of which
I had read so much in my youth — places of contests
and achievements, which early kindled in my heart the
fire of patriotism, which has burned ever since, although
upon another hearth. Here were temples and triumphal

THE COLISEUM. 55
arches, the names of which I did not as yet know, and
finally to the left a gigantic building or ruin, well
known to me from engravings. Thither I directed my
steps. On my way I read upon the ruins of a beautiful
temple, "A Divo Antonio e Diva Faustina;" and a little
farther, above a massive triumphal arch, through which
the road passed, " A Divo Vespasiano;" and saw there re
presented in well-preserved bas-reliefs the triumphal pro
cession of Titus after the destruction of Jerusalem
with the captive Jews, the seven-branched candlestick,
and many other treasures from the temple of Solomon.
I went forward along the Via Sacra, where the stones,
large and worn by time, still lie as they lay when the
triumphal processions of the Roman Caesars passed
along it on their way to the Capitol, leaving to the
right the triumphal arch of Constantine, and came at
length, through immense ruins and portions of fallen
columns, to the Coliseum. Here a deep stillness pre
vailed. Two persons only, the one a Romish priest,
were wandering there in silent contemplation. The
day was like the loveliest summer-day ; the soft wind
chased light, white clouds across the heavens, which
arched themselves, clear and full of light, above the
immense arena, surrounded with dark walls, where so
much blood had flowed, of gladiators, slaves, and
martyrs ! These latter had now conquered.* The
Christian sign, a cross, is now erected on the spot
where their blood had been shed by the teeth and
claws of wild beasts ; peaceful altars stand around it,
* It is related that during the reign of one of the latest Roman
emperors, Honorius, in the year 404, a Christian monk flung him
self one day, in pious zeal, into the arena, in the endeavour to
prevent the murderous conflict of the gladiators. He was killed
by the people ; but the emperor issued from that time a severe in
terdict against these spectacles. — Author's note.

56 THE COMING DAY.
indicating stations in the history of our Lord's suffer
ings. The proud theatre in which thousands of blood
thirsty spectators had clapped their hands, in frantic
joy over the combats and agonies of their victims, was
now in ruins ; and over the broken galleries shrubs
waved in the wind, with their yellow and red flowers,
and the grass grew upon the field of blood,
" As the scar grows upon the healed wound."
The deliciousness of the air — the sunlit sky above the
grand monument, with its gloomy memories — the doves
which circled around in flocks — the wind which made
a murmuring in the young trees and bushes — this pre
sent life, which spoke of the ultimate victory of the
good and the divine — I cannot describe what I felt !
I approached the black wooden cross which stands
in the middle of the Coliseum, and read upon it
that —
"Whoever kisses this cross shall obtain absolution
for the sins of two hundred days."
This was the mark of the Popedom, and the mark
of a power which binds and which unbinds, not with
the keys of the Spirit. The sign, too, that the tri
umphing of the light of the spirit over the letter is
not yet completed. But blow, thou warm, fresh wind,
and shine, thou bright sun, and the day will come !
Another day, one of my first in Rome, weary of
seeking the prose of life, I emancipated myself from
the labour, and set off to seek for beauty and refresh
ment. I went to the opposite side of ancient Rome,
of the Capitol and Forum — went in the direction of the
Porta del Popolo, which was built thus magnificentlv,
says the inscription, in order to celebrate the entrance
of the Swedish ex-queen, Christina, into Rome. On
the right of the square (del Popolo), as one comes

MONTE PINCIO. 57
from the Corso, is a mound which is ascended by
broad paths planted with trees, and ornamented with
marble statues both ancient and modern. One of these
is that of Hygeia, which invites thee here to cast away
care, and to seek for rest and refreshment after the
burden of the day. And there is scarcely any spot on
earth to be found which will better aid thee in doing so
than the enchanting garden of Monte Pincio. There
upon the summit thou wilt find thyself in the most
beautiful grounds, amongst all kinds of trees and
bushes, and flowers of all countries, from the tropics up
to the high north. Clear fountains of water spring
from marble basins amongst acacias and pines ; thou
wanderest in groves of roses and laurels, and from
amongst the laurels beautiful thoughtful heads glance
forth ; the living laurels whisper around, caressing
Dante, Ariosto, Beccaria, Filangieri, Galileo, Volta —
all those poets, thinkers, and statesmen who were the
glory of Italy, and are so still. They stand now here
in peace beneath the beaming heaven of the father
land. Italy clasps her mighty sons with grateful ac
knowledgment to her maternal bosom.
Thou wilt also find some heads of ancient noble
Romans : Scipio Africanus, Cicero, Cassar, Pompey,
Tacitus ! What a glorious museum is Monte Pincio,
the former garden of Sallust, the villa of Lucullus,
then a heap of ruins, lastly transformed by Napoleon
the Great into the most beautiful promenade of Rome !
Every capital ought to have its Monte Pincio ; even
that of Sweden might have hers ; great men are not
wanting amongst us.* The execution of many of these
* The lofty sand hills where the observatory now stands would
be exactly suited for such a purpose. But the busts of our heroes
must be of bronze ; our laurels must be the evergreen pines. —
Author's note.

58 THE LIVING GROUPS OF MONTE PINCIO.
marble busts is, in the meantime, not satisfactory ; real
artists have not always been selected for the work, and
that is a pity.
But the immortal dead occupy our attention here
merely during quiet hours, for the living life around us,
both in small and great, is so beautiful and so rich that
it captivates soul and sense.
Around us walk or sit to rest the Roman nurses in
full costume, the dark hair ornamented with garlands,
red ribbons, silver flowers, or golden ears of wheat,
strings of pearls around their necks, and the necker
chief pinned down low behind, showing the vigorous
form of the neck and its healthy brown colouring ; the
children, clothed in white, sleep on the nurses' arms, or
make their essays at walking between their hands ;
whilst the older children, poetically beautiful and well-
dressed — blooming as the sons and daughters of Albion
• — run along bowling their hoops, beaming with inno
cent life-enjoyment. Here promenade proud, silk-
attired ladies, swinging like ostriches with the gentle
men who belong to them ; there cardinals — princes of
the Church — in scarlet stockings and violet silk-lined
cloaks, accompanied by a black-clad priest and two or
three servants in large hats and long liveried coats ;
there barefooted and bareheaded Capuchin monks, who
wander along comfortably two and two, and betray the
fact, by their corpulence and rosy complexions, that
any one can lead a very jolly life as a Capuchin. Here
and there also you see a quiet thinker sitting or walk
ing with his book in his hand, as solitary and undis
turbed in the silent laurel-groves as in his own study.
Everywhere white marble or wooden benches are to be
found. The peaceful grounds of the pedestrians are encircled
by the grand drive ; and here, between three and five

THE VIA APPIA. 59
o'clock in the afternoon, circulates, in splendid carriages
and on horseback, the elegant world of Rome in gala at
tire. It is a brilliant spectacle. But beyond this is
something greater, and more brilliant still — the spectacle
of Rome itself, with its hundreds of churches, cupolas,
obelisks, from the Vatican to the Capitol, and beyond
the city the country, and beyond that the western ho
rizon, where the sun sets in Italian pomp of colouring,
illumining still with its latest beams the pinnacles of
the eternal city, and the laurel groves of Monte Pincio.
When later the after-glow of sunset illumines the
heavens, and ascends over the city, it is a sight to see,
a spectacle to enjoy, of which one can never grow
weary during evenings as lovely as those we have had
hitherto in Rome.
A third flight — during those first days in Rome — I
made in a carriage with Jenny and the young Swiss,
Professor Bonnet, on the Via Appia, formerly a public
high-road, now a deserted Via Sacra — a magni
ficent promenade, amongst ruinous tombs, the massive
remains of which extend for many miles over the Ro
man Campagna. The powerful families of ancient
Rome loved to build monuments to their dead by the
side of the public road, probably to exhibit at once
their affection for their relations and their own power
and affluence. Most of these monuments are now no
thing but heaps of ruins, upon which are placed the
statues and sculptures which have been found in the
earth, or amongst the rubbish. The tomb of Cecilia
Metella is the only one of which the exterior is well
preserved — its interior is a heap of ruins. A beautiful
marble relief of flowers and other ornamentation encir
cles the round tower, like a garland. The inscription also
is perfect in great measure, and tells of " a young and
lovely woman, dead in the bloom of her age, to whose

60 THE ROMAN CAMPAGNA.
memory this monument has been erected by her sor
rowing husband and father."
Those inscriptions which have been found on the
tombs of the Via Appia, bear witness to the grief of
the living for the dead, but never of the hope of a re
union. On a great number of sarcophagi and the
friezes of tombs may be seen the dead sitting or lying
as if they were alive ; some seem to be praying. Many
heads have great individuality of character. Sometimes
a white marble figure, beautifully draped, projects from
these heaps of ruins, but without head or hands ; some
times a hand is stretched out, or a portion of a figure
rises from a tomb. It is a street through monu
ments of the dead, across an immense churchyard ; for
the desolate Roman Campagna may be regarded as
such. To the left it is scattered with the ruins of co
lossal aqueducts, which, during the time of the empe
rors, conveyed rivers and lakes to Rome — and which
still, ruinous and destroyed, delight the eye by the
beautiful proportions of their arcades.
To the right is an immense prairie, without any other
limit than that of the ocean, which, however, is not seen
from it. The country is desolate — and only here and
there are any huts or trees to be seen. The brook of
Egeria here intersects the Campagna, and flows farther
away into the beautiful grove, which I shall visit an
other time. We continued our drive to the place
called the Round Tower, the highest point in the road,
and where the view is the most striking. A little farm
house has been built here in a ruined tomb ; outside was
gathered a flock of sheep, as immovable at the time
as the tomb itself. On the ledges of the hill of Albano,
we saw in the blue distance the cities of Albani
and Frescati ; and farther away to the left shone out,
amongst dark green woods, the white houses of Tivoli

WE ARE LOCATED ON THE CORSO. 61
and Villa d'Este. On the west the view was bounded
by the Sabine hills, the summits of which were now
covered with snow.
We slowly drove back to Rome, whilst the sun, set
ting in splendour beyond the immense plain, flushed
the aqueducts and tower of the Campagna with ever
warmer colouring. Deeper and deeper grew their sha
dows. The road was equally desolate with the whole
region through which it passed. We met only a few
Contadini, country labourers, who were returning to
their homes. The great high-road for people and car
riages now runs at a considerable distance from this,
and the Via Appia is merely a road for old memories and
curious travellers.
After some days of diligent search, I succeeded in
meeting with comfortable apartments on the Corso, the
great artery of modern Rome. We have there a kind
landlady, a little maid and a clever donna, or female
servant, who takes the management of our household ;
and we can already attest the truth of the saying, that
one can live nowhere so well and so cheaply as in
Rome. But one ought not, however, to live in hotels,
and least of all in a white-washed nest of robbers like
la Minerva. We live not far from Monte Pincio, and
the Piazza del Popolo, where I first saw the evening
star, Jupiter, beaming over Rome. Our outward life is
now well arranged, and I can with all the freer mind
devote myself to Rome, the sibyl with the wonderful
books, carved with runes of the past and the future.
If the human being have sinned — if he have broken
some divine or human law — if he lie awake during the
night with the gnawing pang of conscience — if the day be
made burdensome to him by the weight of this memory
— how good, how blessed to know some means of obli-

62 SCALA SANTA.
teration and atonement! The necessity for this has
sent men and women as pilgrims to holy places, and
does so still — the necessity for this has caused them to
undertake the severest penance. It is a holy necessity —
it is founded upon the consciousness of eternally sacred
laws. One cannot but respect it, at the same time that
one must condemn the power, which dares to absolve
the sin and the sinner, on the performance of some out
ward miserable penance, more like play than punish
ment. Thus have I felt and thought many a time in
Italy, when I read over its churches, chapels, or other
sacred places, the promise of Indulgenza plenaria for
those who prayed there, generally five Paternosters and
three Ave Marias, or kissed a certain cross, and so on.
But seldom have I felt this more vividly than yesterday,
when I saw some men and women creeping on their
knees up La Scala Santa, kissing the places where a cop
per ring indicated that a drop of the Saviour's blood
had fallen.
The Scala Santa is a flight of white marble steps, said
to have been brought from the original hall in Jerusa
lem, and which Christ during his last night ascended on
his way to receive sentence from Pilate. The Empress
Helena, the mother of Constantine, had them conveyed
from Jerusalem to Rome, with other remains of the
Council-hall. The steps are twenty-eight in njimber,
covered with wood, and the penitents who creep up
them find at the top a little, closed chapel, in which
a lamp burns amidst reliques, " so holy," says an inscrip
tion on the wall, " that no holier place is to be found in
the entire world."
People are not allowed to enter, but can merely
peep in through the grating. The penitents kneel
outside this grating, kiss the holy wall, and then go
down by another flight of steps, at the foot of which is

SERVICE IN THE SISTISE CHAPEL. 63
a picture, upon which may be read in large letters, that
"all such as, with their souls deeply absorbed in the
sufferings of the Saviour, ascend the holy steps upon
their knees, receive absolution for nine past years of
their lives ; and that Pope Pius VII. has declared the
absolution to be available for the whole life-time, and
that it is also applicable to the souls in purgatory ! "
Did the feet of the Saviour actually tread these
steps? Are these reliques really portions of his
cross, crown of thorns, &c, or is all this fictitious ? To
me it is all one.
" He is not here, he is risen ! " said the angels at
the tomb. The worship of the bodily covering which
the spirit has cast off belongs to the soul still in the
lava condition; and the ascending of the Scala Santa
on the knees is too convenient a mode for obtaining the
forgiveness of sins, and at the same time a hindrance
upon the only true way.
At the foot of Scala Santa stand the beautiful
groups in marble of Jesus and Judas Iscariot, and of
Jesus and Pontius Pilate, both by a Roman sculptor,
Giacometti by name, who obtained at once, by these
statues, rank and fame amongst the first sculptors of
Rome. Sunday, December 6th. — Divine Service in the Sistine
Chapel. Mass performed by the Pope himself, with
an agreeable, but somewhat weak voice. The voice
resembled his figure and manner, which indicate an
amiable, friendly character, but deficient in energy.
The service seemed to me a species of worship offered
to the person of the Pope. He sits upon his throne,
and the cardinals advance one after another to kiss
his hands, their trains borne by servants. The Pope,
as well during mass as at the administration of the
sacrament, is waited upon just as though he were an auto-

64 A PERPETUUM MOBILE.
maton, which could not do anything for itself. Most
of the cardinals are old men, with flaccid features,
large pale countenances ; several, at the same time, are
very fat. (Cardinal Antonelli, the absolutist principle
in the papal cabinet, and the most influential person in
the Roman state, but the most hated by all nationally-
minded Italians, was not present.) The sermon was
in Latin, and preached by a monk in black, who
seemed to preach merely for the Pope, to whom all his
gestures and discourse were exclusively directed. The
music was learned and strong, but not musically
executed; two beautiful soprano voices sung and
warbled with wonderful art, but without feeling for
its sentiment. It seems to me here, as in Florence,
that music is treated as an art, but not as a fine
art. The greater proportion of those present were
foreigners ; the ladies all in black silk, and with black
veils. Such is the custom here at the Church festivals,
when the Pope is present in person.
If the service could have called forth any devotional
sentiment in my soul it would have been completely
nullified by a kind of perpetuum mobile, which sat
beside me in the shape of- a stout lady of about fifty, a
Frenchwoman, of the most extremely silly appearance
and manner, who would not let either herself or any
one else have a moment's repose. Now she adjusted
her neighbour's veil, then she would have the neighbour
to adjust hers ; now she rattled her bracelets and rings,
admiring them as she twisted about a large fat hand ;
then she showed them to a lady behind her ; then took
a lottery-ticket from the pocket of her dress ; then
looked into her mass-book ; then again brushed down
her dress, stood up, turned herself round, rustled,
bustled, incessantly moved her bands, her head, her

THE LAST JUDGMENT. 65
whole body, and kept continually asking all the time,
Qu'est ce, que cest que ca ? and so on, through the whole
service, which lasted an hour and a half. I employed
the time in making myself acquainted with the purport
of the mass, in the mass-book which my landlady had
lent me, as well as in exercising my patience at the side
of Lady Perpetuum Mobile.
Very splendid, and, in its way, beautiful, was the
spectacle produced by the evolutions and marching of
the Papal Swiss Guards in the magnificent aisles and
vestibules of the Vatican. Their brilliant mediaeval
uniform of red and gold, for which Michael Angelo, it
is said, gave the design, is maintained in all its details.
For the rest, these Guards distinguished themselves by
an astonishing rudeness — rudeness towards foreigners
and even Catholic priests. One priest had his hat
snatched away with rude violence ; another, who was
supporting himself very innocently against a bench,
was pushed about this way and that in a brutal
manner. The ladies were driven out of the chapel on
the close of the ceremonial, as if they had been pri
soners of war, or a flock of sheep. The French Guards
were also present, but they conducted themselves in a
very different way. The Pope, in his own capital,
guarded by foreign soldiery, guarded against his own
people — what a humiliation !
I have returned since then to the chapel, that I might
make a more close survey of Michael Angelo's cele
brated painting of the " Last Judgment." This fresco
picture, which occupies the farther end of the chapel,
is greatly injured by time, and the fading of the colours;
The figure of Christ, as well as that of his mother, in
the centre of the picture, is, however, well preserved or
restored. This Christ is not the Christ of the Gospel,
but an Herculean figure, a la Buonarotti, who, with a
VOL. II. F

66 THE GREAT PICTURE EXAMINED.
vehemently reprobative gesture, exclaims to a crowd of
Pharisaic sinners who are pressing towards him,
" Depart from me, ye accursed of my Father ! "
Of one thing, however, I am quite certain, which is,
that if the Son of God and man should be compelled,
on the day of Judgment, to say these words, He will
do it with a sorrowful earnestness, a spiritual dignity,
of which the Christ of Michael Angelo has not a trace.
The accursed are naturally precipitated backwards,
and down in the bottom of the picture one sees them
seething and burning. In the meantime, the blessed
sing praises, as on the Saviour's right hand they ascend
to heaven — a representation which is false in prin
ciple ; because the one portion of mankind, inasmuch
as they have the spirit of Christ, cannot be singing
praises whilst the other writhes in the torments of
despair. Very beautiful and truly affecting is, on the
contrary, the expression of melancholy and compassion
in the countenance of the Virgin Mary, as she glances
down upon the unhappy — the heavenly, pure, and
gentle countenance reminds one of the bust of Vittoria
Colonna. I thought also that the idea, which was
expressed in some of the groups, of the human beings
clinging together, and their sense of mutual relationship,
was true and beautiful. There are very few single
figures ; they ascend or are hurled down in groups of
two or more persons ; they lift up each other, or they
mutually drag each other down. There is one group
amongst these especially expressive, that of two negroes,
the elder of whom, with a beautiful energetic head,
embraces a younger man, who holds firmly by a rosary
with both hands, by means of which an angel draws
them both aloft with a compassionate smile — an idea
appropriate to the Catholic church, but which has a
symbolic truth. The back of the lofty canopy which

ST. peter's an apotheosis of the popedom. 67
has been erected above the papal throne entirely hides
the central and lowest parts of the picture — the lonely
island of thunder-cloud on which a troop of angels are
blowing the trumpets of judgment — one of the most
magnificent conceptions of the grand picture. This
cloud-island floats above the abyss between heaven and
hell. Below, on the right, you see the dead awake
and raise themselves from the churchyards of the
earth — a dismal image! The picture in its entirety
can now only be seen in photographs and engravings.
I went from the chapel to Saint Peter's church.
That glorious temple — the largest and most beautiful,
it is said, in the world, produced upon me the impres
sion rather of a Christian Pantheon than a Christian
church. The aesthetic intellect is edified more than the
God-loving or God-seeking soul. The exterior and
interior of the building appear to me more like an
apotheosis of the popedom than as a glorification of
Christianity and its doctrine. Monuments to the popes
occupy too much space. One sees all round the walls
angels flying upwards with papal portraits ; sometimes
merely with papal tiaras. About the middle of the
church a garland of gilded lamps is kept continually
burning around the grave of the Apostles Peter and
Paul — a circle of silent, praying worshippers knelt
around — and within the marble-covered tomb kneels a
colossal marble bishop, a beautiful figure, which repre
sents, I believe, Pope Pius V. Not far from the grave
is seated, in a stiff upright position, a black bronze
statue, which is said to represent the Apostle Peter,
and to be very old, a recasting of the ancient image of
Jupiter Capitolinus, as I have been told by learned
men, and it appears like it. The expression is hard
and unspi ritual. The whole figure ugly and unpleasing.
One foot is extended forward, and this is kissed by old
f2

68 PREACHING IN THE COLISEUM.
and young, by all classes of the people who enter the
church. The toes are in part worn away.
The side chapels are splendid, and so large that they
might serve for independent churches. The monu
ments and statues are numerous, but all are subordi
nate, or unite harmoniously with the large and beautiful
proportions of the chief temple. Everything there is
harmony, light, beauty — an image of the church trium
phant, but a very worldly, earthly image; and whilst
the mind enjoys its splendour, the soul cannot, in the
higher sense, be edified by its symbolism. The cathe
dral of Sienna gave me a higher impression of the
Christian temple. But I shall return to St. Peter's.
Rainbows shone in the plenteous jets of water
thrown up by the fountains in the square outside. The
air was as warm as summer, so that Jenny and I drove
home in an open carriage without any inconvenience,
with merely tulle veils over our heads.
During the afternoon, whilst Jenny, in company
with one of our countrymen, enjoyed the sunshine on
Monte Pincio, I went to the Coliseum, where I was
told that every Sunday, " simple, true Christianity was
preached by a Capuchin monk," and this I wished to
hear. I had not been long on the square, empty as usual,
excepting for some nurses who let the little ones kiss
the cross in the middle of the Coliseum, before I heard
singing, and through the gate saw advancing a pro
cession of gray-clad men and black-clad women, one of
whom, a little pale woman, carried a large black cross
at the head of the procession. The faces of the gray
brothers were also concealed by gray cloth, with open-,
ings merely for the eyes, producing a very disagreeable
effect. I have been told that this costume frequently
conceals men of high birth, who in this manner accom-

LA CONFUSIONE IN HEAVEN ! 69
plish a vow or perform penance ; and the gait and
bearing of their figures evidently betrayed that they
were of the higher classes.
The men and women of the procession, together
with a little crowd of all sorts of people who accom
panied it, gathered round a low barrier in front of a
pulpit erected against the walls of the Coliseum to the
left. A young Capuchin monk ascended the pulpit,
bearing a little crucifix, with a hideous figure of the
crucified Saviour, which he fixed into the pulpit beside
him. He then addressed his audience in a loud and
impressive manner ; but, good heavens ! what a dis
course ! It was about the Last Judgment, and of that
which, on that occasion, would constitute the greatest
torment of the damned. It was not the being separated
from God, the fountain of all blessedness ; it was not
the flames and torments of hell. No, it was la con-
fusione of being condemned and put to shame before
the face of the Madonna/of the saints, and all the elect!
An eternity of torment was less terrible than the
blushes which would burn the cheeks at this moment,
and which would make the flames of hell grow pale.
" Imagine to yourselves — dilettissimi — a lady, a noble
and elegant lady of the world, who is seized upon by
rude fellows, and  " but I cannot accompany the
monk in his hideous and disgusting description of this
unfortunate, who, when she had suffered all kinds of
ignominy and offensive insult in the streets of the
capital, is then derided by the Virgin Mary and all the
noble and elegant world of heaven, who clap their
hands at her misery, whilst she, finally, povera donna,
covered with confusione, is cast down to hell !"
The young monk painted his picture con amore, and
with all the Italian warmth of colour. It seemed to me
as if the spirit of those cruel spectacles which had

70 VIA CRUCIS.
formerly taken place on this very spot, had entered
into the young priest, and inspired him with its de
moniacal appetite. The clear, soft summer sky which
arched itself above the heathen rotunda, the evening
breeze which wafted the grass and the flowers, the
white doves, which circled above with their glancing
wings, lit up by the setting sun, were the messengers
of a different spirit to those of the cruel, low-minded
sermon. It closed with these words : —
" Pray to Christ that your lot may be with the elect,
and not with them who will suffer la confusione, worse
to bear than the flames of hell ! " He lifted up the
crucifix, all fell on their knees and repeated a prayer
after his dictation. He then invited the brothers and
sisters to accompany him on " la via cruris," adding,
with severity and indifference, "And if you go there
without devotion so much the worse for you ! You are
warned ! "
He descended from the pulpit, and the procession
following him was again in movement, singing the
while a hymn, in which the words il peccatore and il
salvatore were often repeated to an agreeable and easy
melody. In this manner the procession advanced to the
twelve altars which are erected in a circle within the
Coliseum, and where each one has some picture from
the history of the Saviour's sufferings. At every altar
they paused and prayers were repeated, when again the
train proceeded, singing as before. It was late and
dusk when the so-called " via cruris " was concluded.
Those of the people who had taken part in it then
hastened to kiss the cross in the centre of the arena,
and, so doing, to obtain indulgenza for the sins of two
hundred days. The procession passed through the
gates, singing, and on to a little church called il
Calvario, within the gate of St. Sebastian.

l'immaculata. 71
I wandered homeward, but had some difficulty in
making my way, for the Corso was one almost incredi
ble mass of carriages and pedestrian spectators ; and it
was merely by time and skill that one could pilot one'3
way through the dense throng of foot-passengers —
nearly all gentlemen — who often stood, as it were,
riveted to the spot, and seemed to have no other
thought than of gazing at the gay ladies in the car
riages. And thus it is every afternoon on the Corso
between three and five o'clock.
December 8th. — Grand festival of V Immaculata ! The
shops were closed, many people in the streets, and the
weather beautiful. At four in the afternoon the grand
procession went from the Piazza di Venezia to the
Capitoline rock. My friends and I watched it from
the steps of the Jesuists1 church (Chiesa di Gesu),
where we joined it. A great number of spectators in
the streets, with but little devotion, excepting for the
host. As it was carried along all fell upon their knees.
They merely uncovered their heads to the picture of
the Virgin. It was carried first painted on canvas — a
very lovely picture, above which stood the words,
"Mater omnium;" then a gilded statue, also with a
lovely maternal expression, its clasped hands adorned
with a number of rings, under a gilded canopy. To
these succeeded a cross. The music played a march
from " II Trovatore." The procession produced a fine
effect, when, attended by the many-coloured multitude,
it ascended the flight of steps to the Capitol. There it
paused — the music played for yet a short time a gay
secular air — the standards were lowered— all was at
an end, and the people dispersed as hastily and silently
as a mass of cloud.
The pictures of the Madonna were carried up the
heaven-aspiring steps of Ara Coeli, and into the church

72 EXCELLENT CONDUCT OF AN ITALIAN CROWD.
of the Capuchins, to which they lead. The church was
illuminated, and also the image of the Virgin, which
stands in the centre of the church. The inscription,
" Thou art in truth a Virgin, and there is no original
sin in thee," was kissed again and again by many men
of the lower class, with an earnestness which was
affecting to witness, because it was sincere, and evinced
an ardent and religious feeling. If this were a mis
guided feeling it was no fault of theirs, but that of
their great guardian, the Pope, who has elevated the
earthly, humble woman into a goddess. It was this
day seven years since Pio Nono, according to an
alleged inspiration of the Holy Spirit, declared the
mother of Christ Jesus to be without hereditary
or original sin. For the rest, well might the affec
tionate, fascinating expression in the beautiful pictures
of the Madonna awaken sentiments of devotional love
in these uneducated but warm-hearted and sun-kindled
children of Italy. It is asserted that the men of Italy
almost universally feel a reverence and regard for " the
mother," which is elsewhere very rare. It is worthy
of observation how quietly ladies may move amongst
and stand here in a popular crowd without being
pressed upon, or pushed about, or otherwise annoyed,
at least by the Italian people. They conduct them
selves with good-humour, kindness, and even with the
utmost delicacy towards well-dressed persons and
children. It is a part of what they call educazione, and
of which it is to be wished that our northern people
had somewhat more.
December 10th. — Soiree at Count Colloredo's, in com
pany with Princes and Princesses, French, Spanish, and
Italian. Amusing enough for once ! I was most
pleased with the hostess, a lady who appears good,
clever, and decided, a lady of the great world, and, as

A GRAND SOIREE. 73
it seemed to me, of character also. It was a great joy
to me to see the young Princess G  , the daughter
of Queen Maria Christina, by the second marriage.
Without being precisely handsome, she is very plea
sant looking and has agreeable manners. The wreath
of flowers, with long, depending sea-grass, which
she wore, was extremely becoming to her head and
somewhat long, but very graceful neck. The young
prince, her husband, is also handsome, in the southern
style. The Princess P  , not handsome, but very
aimable, and belonging to the most refined fashionable
world, was an actual air-balloon of gold, silk, and black
lace. A couple of Italian counts or princes were men
tioned to me as men of great erudition, and especially
interesting in conversation. Their names have escaped
me, and of their interesting conversation — which their
appearance led me to believe in — I heard nothing. The
subjects on which the company in general — which this
evening was not large — conversed, were merely trifles
and private occurrences — about the Prince  , who
had broken his leg by a fall from his horse, and the
Princess  , who is ill. One person says that she is
better, another that she is worse, and so on.
I listened with one ear to these remarks, whilst I lent
the other to Count B  's vindication of certain Catho
lic usages which I had censured, perhaps a little too
openly. He is a kind and agreeable young man. Count
Colloredo, whom I had seen more than thirty years ago
in Stockholm, when he was a blond Apollo-like figure,
and the favourite of high-born ladies, I now beheld
as a grey-haired statesman, no longer handsome, but
polite and agreeable as formerly.
After somewhat more than an hour I drove home.
On the Piazza di Spagna a crown of stars was blazing
around the image of the immaculate Virgin at the top

74 THE COUNTRY-PEOPLE AND THEIR COSTUME.
of the white marble colonnade which had been erected
in her honour, and in memory of the new dignity which
Pio Nono conferred upon her. At the end of the colon
nade stand colossal statues of Moses and three prophets,
all of whom are thought to have written upon or an
nounced the new dogma. On the pedestal are seen Pio
Nono and his cardinals — good portraits — who announce
the same to the world in the year 1849.
December llth. — Soiree at the Bavarian minister's,
Baron de Verger ; very entertaining ; various new and
agreeable acquaintance, amongst whom are the artist
Rudolf Lehman, and the young and charming Mrs.
Grant, born Baroness Wegener. Lively conversation
and good music.
Sunday, the \3th. — Cold, bright morning! Walked
to the Piazza Montanara, in the neighbourhood of the
Capitoline Forum, to see the Roman country-people,
who commonly assemble in this quarter. Men and boys
stand sunning themselves, with their cloaks — sometimes
merely a tattered rag or piece of coarse woollen cloth —
thrown over their shoulders in the style of the antique
Roman toga. Their bearing is proud, but their appear
ance half savage. There were but few women this
morning, but three in the Albanian costume were splen
did. It is here that the artists of Rome come to seek
for their models.
The Roman women are distinguished, after their first
youth is past, by solidity of flesh and figures in perfect
opposition to those of the sylph. Beauty — when it is
found — is of a substantial character. The costumes
seem to me less elegant and decorative than many of
our northern ones. Rags and tatters play too great a
part — at least amongst the poor. These rags are nearly
always gray or dirty brown, and this — may the artists
forgive me — does not seem to me beautiful. We are

A MIRACLE ; AND THE POOR BECOME RICH. 75
here very near Bocca della Verita, in the ancient temple
which was converted into a Christian church. The
people on Montanara basked in the sun, smoked, ate
fruit and maize cakes, and seemed contented with
life. December 1 6th. — The Augustine church ! Above the
entrance stands the inscription common to Italian
churches : — "Indulgentia plenaria, quotidiana et perpetua
pro vivis et defunctis"
Within the church a peculiar scene may now for some
time have been witnessed. It is not long since the re
port was spread, that one day when a poor woman called
upon the image of the church's Madonna for help, she
began to speak, and replied, " If I only had something,
then I could help thee, but I myself am poor ! "
This was a great miracle ! The story spread, was re
peated, made a great noise, and very soon throngs of
credulous, believing people hastened to the church to
kiss the foot of the Madonna, and to present her with
all kinds of gifts. The crowding thither was just now
at its height. The image of the Virgin — a beautiful
figure in brown marble, with the child Jesus on her knee
— sate shining with ornaments of gold and precious
stones. It was the hour of the Ave Maria ; candles and
lamps were burning around the figure; the people poured
in, rich and poor, great and small ; all came to kiss —
some of them two or three times — the Madonna's foot,
a gilt foot, to which the forehead also was devotionally
pressed. The marble foot has been worn away with
kissing; the Madonna is now rich. The church,
formerly one of the poorest in Rome, has within a short
time become one of the richest in Rome. Most of the
devotees, after having given the kiss, let a coin drop
into a little pewter vessel, which is placed upon the
altar where sits the Madonna image ; after which they

76 CAVALIERE VISCONTI.
dip their fingers into the oil of the lamp, and anoint
their eyes, forehead, neck, cross themselves, and give
place to others eager to come forward that they too
may kiss the golden foot. The concourse of people
continued uninterruptedly for a full hour and a half,
during which time I remained in the church. Below
the altar it is inscribed in golden letters that Pius VII.
promised two hundred days absolution to all such as
should kiss the Madonna's foot, and pray with the
whole heart Ave Maria. A priest was seated near the
altar at a writing-table, ready to write out pardons for
the dead, for whose souls prayers were desired, and pay
ment made. Oh, Luther !
December \lth. — Dined with Herrvon Kolb ! I had
here the great pjeasure of making the acquaintance of
Cavaliere Visconti, an archaeologist, rather, it is asserted,
a clever man of letters than a reliable antiquarian.
But it would be difficult to find a more captivating per
son in conversation.
It was an actual delight to me to hear him speak of
the Italian language, " which," said he, " has at once
the dagger which kills, and the balsam which heals the
wound, as it were with caresses. Alfieri and Metastasio
represent the strong and the sweet in the Italian
tongue in tragedy and canzonet. Everything is ex
pressed in Italian literature which lives in the human
soul : the most independent, the most indomitable
thought (see Vico ! ) — the richest fancy — the most glow
ing sentiment — the most free, the most joyous lyric.
In all these the genius of Italy takes the lead. It
seems not to set great store1 by other nations, because it is
itself inspired, and speaks from its own impulse. It is a
born improvisatore ; does not produce a great deal, but
comprehends the true, the beautiful, with incredible
rapidity ; and the expression of this is as easy as a na
tural growth in its native soil."

THE CATACOMBS AND DE ROSSI. 77
Visconti gave us some recitations, partly from Alfieri,
partly from Metastasio, as well portions of the folk
songs, which have lately been collected and will shortly
be published in a printed form. The whole company
listened to him, and I could have sat and listened for ever.
It was enchanting! Visconti is a handsome, middle-
aged gentleman, with fire in his eye, and a tone of high-
breeding in his appearance.
December 20th. — The Catacombs ! I have to thank
the kind management of my countrywoman, the lady
of the Neapolitan minister, Madame Martino, for ena
bling me to see the Catacombs, under the guidance of
the celebrated archaeologist, Cavaliere De Rossi, and en
lightened by his edifying explanations.
Madame di Martino drove Jenny and myself to the
entrance of the Catacombs outside the gate San Sebas-
tiano. Here we were met by De Rossi, still a young
man, of Italian beauty and southern grace, accompanied
by several learned men and antiquarians of various na
tions. De Rossi is at the present time the most distinguished
antiquarian of Rome, because he two years ago disco
vered the Christian Catacomb of the first century,
which was unknown, or had been forgotten, ever since
the fifth century; and he has arrived at this discovery
by having, in the first place, discovered the so-called
Calixti Catacomb, with the graves of Fabianus, and
Saint Cecilia, and many other of the ancient martyrs.
This last-mentioned Catacomb, of which much is said
in the writings of the oldest pilgrims of the sixth
and seventh centuries, has been considered in latter
times to exist in a totally different place to that in
which De Rossi found it. New and very careful ex
aminations in the district of the church of San Sebas-
tiano led to his discovering that a cow-house, in a vine-

78 THE CATACOMB OF CALIXTUS.
yard, contained a Christian Basilica of the oldest date.
Broken pieces of marble, with burial inscriptions, which
were found under the stones and rubbish, led to the sup
position in his mind that the actual Calixti Catacomb
would be found under this church.
He communicated his discovery and his suppositions
to the Pope, Pio Nono, who encouraged him, and fur
nished him with means to purchase the cow-house and
vineyard, and to undertake the excavation. The re
sults of all this were rich beyond expectation. The ac
tual Calixti Catacomb, with the martyrs' graves, was
not only discovered, the descent being found near the
little, extremely ancient church, but in connection there
with the very most ancient Catacomb where the Chris
tians during the first and second centuries congregated,
as well as interred their dead. The entrance to this had
been again walled up, and, if I am not mistaken, not
opened until by De Rossi.
It was with a beaming countenance that the fortu
nate discoverer led us to those subterranean chambers,
by the very way which the most ancient pilgrims had
descended. This was a handsome convenient flight of
white marble steps. We went down, each one of us
bearing a lighted candle — two guides going in advance
with torches. We- reached the Catacomb of Calixtus.
The chapels, the graves, and the passages are in many
places ornamented with marble columns, bas-reliefs and
paintings. The number and character of the tombs show
that this catacomb belonged, after the fourth century,
to a poor and insignificant mass of people no longer,
but to one sufficiently powerful to make itself regarded
and feared by a politically wise prince and ruler. It
had, in fact, taken possession of the realm, in order to
retain which, Constantine, called the Great, was obliged
to adopt, or at least protect, its doctrines.

THE TOMBS OF THE MARTYRS. 79
The most interesting of the mausoleums was that in
which the most ancient Bishops of Rome, Popes Six-
tus, Fabianus, and many other martyrs, were buried.
The inscription on the marble tablets above the niches
in the walls, which contain the dead, are perfectly well
preserved, but consist merely of the names of the dead,
and the short addition, " Martyr"
One inscription in this chamber, not upon a tomb, by
Archbishop Damas, of the fourth century, excellently
restored by De Rossi, praises " the men and women
who are here interred because they died for their faith."
" In this chamber," adds the pious bishop, " should I,
Damas, have wished to sleep, but I would not disturb
the repose of the martyrs !'
In the mausoleum of Saint Cecilia you see the empty
space of the sarcophagus, which is now to be found in
the church of Santa Cecilia di Trastevere, together
with a painting representing her with a glory, and up
lifted supplicating hands. Other paintings also of
Christian martyrs are here ; amongst these, one of the
bishop who interred Saint Cecilia, and whose name, Ur-
banus, may be easily spelled out in letters which sur
round his head like a frame. The paintings are all in
the stiff Byzantine style, with rich costumes and gilding.
The countenances are nothing less than beautiful. This
mausoleum, like the one we had just left, is spacious
and beautifully proportioned. Smoke on the walls, as
of a lamp, shows that people had there watched and
prayed. The whole of this Catacomb is lighted by
circular openings, which admit light and air into the
subterranean burial-place.
After about an hour's wandering along innumerable
passages, through many chapels resembling the last
mentioned, we arrived at the Catacomb of the first cen
tury. Before we descended into it, De Rossi called our

80 PRAYERS OF THE EARLY CHRISTIANS.
attention to an inscription, which is found often re
peated by the same hand, upon the walls all the way
from the mausoleums in the Catacomb of St. Calixtus,
to the entrance into this of the earliest Christians. A
pilgrim had wandered through these chambers whilst
he prayed for a friend, and he has inscribed his prayer
on the walls in these words : —
" Sophronia ! Live thou in God ! "
He appears then to have paused at the door of the
oldest Catacomb, and the prayer now expresses itself in
words which show that he knew his prayer was heard.
Here, in Roman letters, one can plainly decipher —
" Sophronia dulcis, vive in Deo ! Tu vivis in Deo 1 "
(Sophronia, sweet one, live thou in God! Thou dost
live in God !) The letters are dark red, as if written
in blood. Who can avoid thinking here — " Love is
stronger than death."
We entered the Catacomb of the first century. Here
there is no splendour, no marble pillars, or pictures ;
narrow streets and passages, in which are niches, low
openings or stages in the walls, three stories high, and
bones, chalk-like dust, lying everywhere. Here, no
light, no atmosphere is admitted from without, but still
the air is as wonderfully good, warm, and pure, as if it
were that of a tranquil sleeping-chamber, where it is good
to rest. Here had a poor and persecuted people sought
shelter for their dead, as well as for their preaching of
the resurrection of the dead. Neither yet were the
monuments of the earliest Christians here deficient in
culture or art. Many fresco paintings in the mauso
leums exhibited both these, and they far excelled in
style and artistic value the Byzantine pictures in the
Catacombs of the fourth century.
At the end of one little chapel was a well-preserved
humorous painting, representing a shepherd who

PRATING SAINTS IN THE CATACOMBS. 81
preaches to his flock. Some listen attentively, others
wander away from him, others feed on the meadow,
one ram bleats towards the preacher, with a horrible
grimace. In the meantime, you sec that a heavy shower
of rain is falling. Another paintinp-, also good and
well preserved, represents Moses, who, with his staff,
Opens the bosom of the rock, and the water gushes forth.
Here you see the place where the altar has stood ;
you see the smoke on the walls, and the smoke < : the
lamp on the ceiling.
The symbols of the Holy Communion are repre
sented in more than one of the chambers, as a gkss
with wine, above which is laid a fish, or also a plate
with the holy wafer. I approached my candle to the
wine in the glass ; it shone as red and as fresh as if it
had been painted yesterday, and not nearly two thou
sand years ago. In yet another chapel were many re
markably beautiful small pictures, representing saints
pr Dying with uplifted hands. One of them was a wo
man, richly dressed and very beautiful. Was it Alary,
the mother of Jesus ? — who Father Gallmorell at Ein-
siedeln maintained was represented in the Catacombs
as the praying Queen of Heaven ? Certain it is that
this portrait does not essentially differ from the rest
of the praying figures of Peter, Paul, and other
mnrtvrs. And had any such image of the Virgin
Mary, as " Queen of Heaven," been in existence here,
the Catholic archaeologist, De Rossi, would not have
neglected to make us observant of it. But there is
none such here, nor could there have been at a time
when the Christian doctrine still retained its purity.
What, however, do these most ancient figures of
praying saints say to us, their descendants ? Most as
suredly that death does not dissolve the bond of human
spirits ; that the fixed relationship of one generation to
VOL. II. G

82 THE ONE LIVING THING AMONGST THE DEAD.
another is an eternal relationship ; that the departed
live and labour for us who yet wander on the earth, as
we here on earth can and ought to labour even for them
as for all Christians, here or there, ought to labour for
the accomplishment of the prayer, " Thy kingdom
come," the perfected order of the world in love and
happiness. We observed no names in this Catacomb. Upon
most of the graves, which were covered with a sla,b of
marble, was cut a Greek cross, an anchor, or a dove
with an olive -branch ; often merely the words, " in pace."
The number of labyrinthine branching passages
through which we went was so great, that they gave
the impression of an immeasurable city of the dead;
and yet we here stood upon ground which covered
many lower stories still, equally extensive. At the
depth at which we were we could, sometimes, faintly
hear the dull rumbling of a carriage rolling above our
heads. For the rest it was profoundly silent. The
mystery of death had encompassed all, even the me
mory of the dead. The paintings alone said, "But
they still live for all that ! "
The only living thing that I saw was a queer spider,
with immensely long legs. He took a leap upon my
hand, the one in which I held the candle, and then
another down upon the dust and sand. I could not
help thinking how frightful it would be to be lost
in this subterranean city, and then perhaps be buried
alive there. It is said that this fate has happened more
than once to imprudent travellers who ventured in
without guides, and never afterwards came out. Many
parts of these Catacombs are not visited, from fear of
the falling in of the earth ; many others are closed
from this cause.
After a ramble of near three hours underground, we

THE QUEST AFTER THE TRUE GOD. 83
again beheld the cheerful sunlight, which was a plea
sant sight, although we had not been in darkness even
in those dwellings of night.
After 1 had seen these Catacombs, after I knew that
they extended to a great distance under the Roman
Campagna, formerly occupied with temples and splen
did villas, both the Campagna and the whole of the
eternal city acquired a new interest for my gaze.
What a concentration of life is here ! What history,
with the highest questions and the highest answers !
I see the Roman city and soil full of temples to gods
and goddesses from all the known lands of the world,
that they might reply to the still more urgent ques
tionings of humanity : —
" Is there a God ? What and who is He ? Is there
a life after death for us who suffer, love, and die ? Is
there reparation for those who testify to the truth and
fall victims to lies? What have we to hope for? What
shall we believe ? "
And the temples multiply even more and more, and
the gods and their priests increase. People sacrifice to
Isis and Fortuna, to the sun and to Jupiter, to Hertha,
Cybele, Ceres, and Diana; to the unknown gods, to
evil and good demons ; to Roman Caesars who made
themselves gods, and lastly to the horrible Mithras, who
came out of the East, worshipped in gloomy grottoes
amidst horrible torturings and punishments of the
body, which proves that the human soul knows itself to
be sinful, and endeavours to appease the divinities by
self-chastisement. The unfortunate pray and sacri
fice in vain upon all these altars ; their gods are silent,
or give through their priests merely obscure or insuffi
cient answers. And the Mithras - worshippers — they
were numerous in Italy — obtained no peace from their
savage, self-inflicted severities !
G 2

84 THE IMPERISHABLE SEED.
Whilst this was taking place on the surface of the
earth, people were singing below, in the night of the
Catacombs, of " God revealed in Christ as the eternally
compassionating Father ; of the Saviour who leads to
Him ; of the resurrection of the dead, and of life ever
lasting." From all the nations whom Rome subjected
by her arms, Jews, Greeks, barbarians, a people is here
collected, who, together with men and women of the
eternal city, are baptized amidst the night of the Cata
combs to a people of brethren, to one faith, one love,
one hope, one name ! — thou, my R., hast already named
it. And hast thou at any time seen a slender shoot, a
seed forgotten in the soil, make its way through the
stone wall — of the Coliseum, or any other wall — and
by degrees rift it so that its stones become loosened and
fall, whilst the young tree grows and spreads forth its
branches to the light ? Then hast thou seen the image of
that which took place in the depths of the Catacombs.
There was rooted the slender shoot, which thenceforth
would grow to a world's tree, overshadow the eternal
city, and bear for all the people of the earth fruit to
life eternal !
Again in our quiet home on the Corso, and in the
tranquillity of evening, Jenny read aloud the first
Epistle to the Corinthians, from the twelfth to the six
teenth chapter — the most beautiful commentary on
the Catacombs.
December 23rd. — One of the sights with which one
becomes only slowly familiar, but which belongs to the
characteristic features of Rome, is the many studios, or
work-places of art — certainly many hundreds — from
which a number of pictures and statues proceed to
beautify the world. Every artist — who deserves the
name— has his peculiar genre as well as his peculiar
talent; and this genre and this talent take a specific co-

RUDOLF LEHMAN. 85
louring from the nation to which the artist belongs.
And here are now artists from all peoples of the world :
Scandinavians, Russians, Germans, Frenchmen, En
glishmen, Americans, and many others. Amongst all
the affluence of ancient and modern art, one should
run the risk of having a surfeit — may I be forgiven the
expression — of the fine arts, if one did not resolve to
enjoy them, as our Swedish maid-servants say, " bit
by bit." This is what I determined to do, and what
I shall accomplish, as I have several months before
me. Within these few days we have visited two studios :
first that of the German artist, R. Lehman, afterwards
those of the Italian sculptors, Giacometti and Teverani.
I had already become acquainted with Rudolf
Lehman, as an interesting man in society, and had
heard him spoken of as one of the first genre-painters
in Rome. His pictures evidence great talent, and a
thorough conception of the subject which he handles. Two
of these especially interested me — the light-side and the
night-side of Italian life. In the one you see a young
Italian girl, with a dreamy, summer-warm expression,
sitting with a basket brim-full of doves. Her glance
testifies to a rich inner life, but which is still unde
veloped. In the north such a soul would have some
thing restless or savage about it. The daughter of
the south, nourished by the fruits of the earth, by the
warmth of the sun, by the deliciousness of the air and
the sky, has her yearnings lulled to a quiet pensiveness.
She anticipates and she dreams, till the time comes.
The second picture shows an aged woman with two
young children. One can see that she has been
handsome— quite as handsome as the young girl-
but now she is old and poor. She looks at you with a
rioid, almost severe glance ; whilst the two most charming

86 TEVERANI AND GIACOMETTI.
little ones, with the look of half-frozen rosebuds, cling
to her, hungry and cold. Beside them stands an empty
basin, with a spoon in it ; in the background you see the
gate of a convent. Will it soon be opened, and a
brotherly hand extend forth soup to the famished ? —
or has the soup been already given, but insufficient in
quantity, and the door is closed?
Lehman is now employed on a larger picture, repre
senting the flood of Sixtns, in the Pontine marshes,
carrying away buffaloes ; an extremely peculiar scene,
and full of life, with innumerable beautiful details, and
indeed one of the most original pictures I have yet
seen. Teverani, a pupil of Thorwaldsen, and at the present
time the most celebrated sculptor of Rome, celebrated
especially for his lovely figures of Psyche, has no less
than four ateliers for his work. His statue of Christ
appears to me very unsatisfactory, stiff, and without
spirit ; but his Angel of Judgment, a sitting figure, with
the trumpet on his knee, and his glance directed upward,
watching, waiting, is a glorious figure, which bears the
stamp of genius and inspiration. The artist himself,
who is now chiselling the beard on the head of Christ,
is not one of the least interesting figures in his studio.
He has a splendid head, with strong features and
energetic character. The hair is gray, and the counte
nance indicates about sixty years. Many works by
Thorwaldsen adorn his studio. Teverani began by
imitating his master, but has since then elevated himself
to an independent working out of his genius.
At Giacometti's, the author of the two groups at
the foot of La Scala Santa, I admired the first models for
these great works, which appeared to me to possess a
still higher degree of power. Giacometti did not,
until his fiftieth year, produce anything extraordinary,

AN ITALIAN POETESS ; AND CHRISTMAS-DAY. 87
when all at once, by these groups, he placed himself at
the summit of the scala santa of art.
Later, on the same day, at a small, select dinner
party at the polite Bavarian minister's, I heard a young
Italian poetess — a Countess Cantalamessa, married to a
captain of the Pope's Swiss Guard — repeat her own
verses. As far as I understood them, they were beau
tiful and pure, and the expression of the refined, sweet
figure, when animated by the recitation, was most fasci
nating. She seemed to have wings. The gift of
writing, and also of improvising verse, appears not
to be unfrequent amongst Italian ladies, even of the
highest class. Some ladies belonging to the higher cir
cles of Rome are known as distinguished poetesses.
Christmas-day. — Grand opera performance at St.
Peter's ! Jenny and I were present in the gallery
erected for the occasion, where all the ladies sit in black
dresses and veils. The centre nave of the church was
occupied by the French Guards, arranged in long
lines. The Pope was borne along in the procession, on
men's shoulders, or heads, I could not see which, and
surrounded on both sides by two immense peacock-fans,
seemed to me so like an idol-image, that I could not
get the idea out of my mind, as he, with the good-
tempered expression which is peculiar to him, dealt out
with his fat, white hand, blessings to the right and the
left. Of all the symbolical business which he transacted
between the grave of Paul and Peter, and the high altar,
as well as that which was transacted about his person,
I understood quite as little as the greater number who
were present. I know that church ceremonial is a kind
of symbolical language, and that, in order to understand
it, one must be initiated therein, and also that one has
no right to pass judgment on that which one does not

88 ECCLESIASTICAL POMP AND CEREMONIAL.
understand. But may not one with some justice require
that a transaction which ought to have an interest for
every soul should have a symbolical language worthy
of the transaction, and that its main purport should be
comprehensible to every soul not acquainted with its
significance ? On Christmas-day people celebrate the
birth of Jesus Christ ; but what connection could the
endless fuss and fiddle-faddling about the Pope's
person have to do with it ? He is clothed and reclothed
more than once ; his tiara is removed, and replaced at
least a dozen times. The Cardinals one after another
come and fall upon their knees and kiss his slipper.
The Pope offers burning incense before the pictures
of the saints, then the Cardinals do the same to him ;
then they embrace and kiss one another; then they
fiddle-faddle again with his dress ; then the incense is
presented, and again bending and bowing and kissing
take place, as if it would never come to an end. If
this be intended as a symbolic representation of the
life of love and concord of the Church, the expression
is altogether too childish, and the spectacle is altogether
too long. One feels a gr%at desire to bid the actors
proceed — " From sounds to things ! "
Nevertheless, it was actually a beautiful and a solemn
moment when the Pope elevated the host, and the same
instant music, as from heaven, streamed down from the
cupola of the church. All fell upon their knees, and I
also, thankful that at that moment I felt myself one
with all Christians, Catholics or not, who believe in the
free-will offering for the forgiveness of sinners. That
was the only moment of devotion of which I was
conscious during the festival — which is celebrated by
us, oh, with what earnestness, what sincere feeling !

THE SCANDINAVIAN CHRISTMAS CLUB. 89
The Pope was carried out as he had been carried in,
preceded by a cardinal's hat and a bishop's mitre, sur
rounded with peacocks' feathers, and distributing bless
ings on the right hand and the left, with a countenance
beaming with a benign but not a spiritual life. Nor
could I discover anything of the kind in the throng
which filled the church. They all evidently contem
plated the day's solemnity merely as some grand
spectacle. This spectacle was also continued outside
the church by the magnificence of the cardinal's
equipages, horses and servants glittering in gold and
silver, liut the princes of this church, driving in these
splendid carriages, drawn by magnificent horses with
silver-mounted trappings, how little they resembled
their great Master, the God who walked through the
world !
In the afternoon I went to the Coliseum, and heard a
Capuchin monk preaching. His concluding apostrophe
to the image of Christ was really beautiful and fervent,
penetrated by a feeling for the crucified. The partici
pators in the via cruris were few and indifferent.
In the evening we sat in the Scandinavian Christmas-
club, with wreaths of ivy round our heads, had a
laurel tree instead of the Christmas pine, ate excellent
porridge, and heard speeches of no great mark, except
ing one from the Danish archaeologist, Professor Ussing,
who spoke cleverly, beautifully, and well on the
solemnities of Christmas and our earthly home — of the
great Christmas-tree of the world, which extends its
crown to the stars of heaven. We had also Christmas
presents, conversation with our friendly, polite country
men, and good music from the amiable Danish
composer, Ravnkilde. We went home at eleven o'clock,
in the loveliest weather. The streets were thronged
with people, who during the whole night are in move-

90 CHILD-PREACHING.
ment, going from church to church, admiring the lighted
chandeliers, the silken draperies, and other splendours
with which the churches here are hung on all festivals,
and as much as possible made to resemble worldly
drawing-rooms. On the 29th of December — I went to hear the child-
preaching, which is continued in the Ara-Coeli church,
from Christmas-day till the thirtieth of the month, and
ranks amongst the smaller notabilities of Rome.
Just opposite a splendidly decorated theatre, where
the manger in Bethlehem, with Mary, the child Jesus,
Joseph, and above them, God the Father, with legions
of angel-heads, are represented, a sort of pulpit is
erected, in which little children, from five to ten years
of age, deliver services, or address the bystanders.
These bystanders are for the most part foreigners, or
simple country people, who listen to the infant preachers
with evident edification, sometimes with emotion ;
whilst the foreigners, on the contrary, apparently regard
the whole as a child's show. The first that entered the
pulpit on this occasion was a handsome little girl, who
preached with fervour and exquisite declamation what
she herself could but little understand. She quoted
the prophets, and exhorted her audience to renounce
their bosom sins — to which the rosy, little mouth gave
very substantial names — to turn themselves to il beatis-
simo Bambino, born during this beatissima notte, and to
let themselves be born again in him. The splendid
little speaker closed with a graceful salutation to the
public, who could not refrain from a murmur of ap
plause and delight. A little boy, in delicate clothing,
and with beautiful eyes, stepped up after her, and made
a speech in verse, in which the lesson learned by heart
was too perceptible ; and besides this, he was prompted

SAN PAOLO FtTORI DELLE MURE. 91
by his lady-mamma, who was standing below. A little
girl wearing a shepherdess's hat succeeded to him, but
she lost the thread of her discourse very soon, avowed
it with great naivete, turned round, and hastened from
the pulpit. Another little one was lifted up by her
father, who whispered in her ear, but in vain; the
little one stood gazing at the spectators with her large,
dark eyes, forgetful that she had anything to say to
them. Her father was obliged to lift her down again.
A lively boy of ten, in a black priest's cloak, now took
her place, preaching with great ease and salvelse,
but evidently by rote. Two priests standing behind,
in broad-brimmed hats, complimented him, smiling
when he had finished.
Little ones, more or less perfectly trained, succeeded
each other without intermission. It was amusing
enough to witness as a spectacle, but it was painful to
me to see these infant souls thus early taught to accept
Christ's doctrine as a lesson fit for repeating by rote on
the theatre of life. It was with quite another meaning
that the Saviour desired that children should come to
him. These infant preachings are said to have been
practised ever since the middle ages.
December 2>0th. — Visited, withMadame de M  , San
Paolo fuori delle Mura, the largestBasilica of Rome, built
by Constantine the Great, so called, upon the spot where
according to tradition, the Apostle Paul was beheaded.
A small Christian church marked the place from the
most ancient times — afterwards it was destroyed by
fire, and again rebuilt more than once, down to the
present time, when, after the last conflagration in 1821,
it is again restored, and that in a manner which will
make it what it was originally intended to be, one of
the most magnificent temples of the Christian church,
equal, though built in a different style, to St. Peter's.

92 ST. BRIGITTA.
Long, rich rows of pillars lead through the naves of the
church to the chancel. Most of the monarchs of
Europe, and even some princes of the East, have, on
this last occasion, made valuable gifts for the comple
tion or decoration of the church. The Czar, Nicholas
of Russia, has given altars and pillars of malachite ; the
Pasha of Egypt, pillars of beautiful alabaster, as well
as other ornaments. Just lately, also, a Jew has be
queathed by will a large sum of money to this church.
They are at the present time busied in setting up the
portraits of the -Popes, which, executed in mosaic, will
encircle the church as with a vast Papal ring. Not
one of the crowned fathers, from Gregory the Great
down to Pio Nono, is to be omitted, even though they
must improvise now and then a Papal head. There
are still empty spaces in the circle of medallions for the
various portraits, which cannot as yet be found.
Not far from the chancel is a beautiful chapel dedi
cated to Saint Brigitta, and ornamented by her statue
in marble. During her residence in Rome she fre
quently came to pray in this church; and here is
preserved, as a holy relic, the cross from which, during
her ecstatic devotion, she seemed to hear a voice pro
ceed. I was glad to hear that she exercised a reforma
tory influence as well upon the higher class of the
priesthood in Rome as in Naples. For she did not
alone satisfy herself with praying at the graves of
martyrs ; she earnestly exhorted bishops and cardinals,
nay, even the Pope himself, to a life of the true worship
of God, and of good works, from which they had
almost universally fallen, to devote themselves to
worldly ambition. She awoke the consciences of many,
as well by her prayers and remonstrances, as by her
example. For she herself, of a rich and noble race,
that of a Brahe, one of the nobles in Sweden, yet

AMONGST THE HIGH-PRIESTS. 93
lived here in Rome, and laboured like a truly humble
servant of Christ.
" We must walk barefoot against pride if we would
overcome it," said she. And Brigitta Brahe did so,
and, so doing, overcame those proud hearts and won
them to God.
Whilst we were in the chapel of St. Brigitta the
Superior of the Benedictine order entered, a good-
tempered, stout man, and after him the General of the
same order, Cardinal Andrea, a Neapolitan, in fiery red
costume, also a very stout gentleman, with a cun
ning side glance and polite demeanour. Both gentle
men bowed to Madame de M  ; and the Cardinal, who
graciously allowed her to kiss his hand, conversed for
some time both with her and me. He inquired, amongst
other things, what I thought of St. Peter's and the
Christmas-day service there. I said to him, as can
didly as I could without any breach of politeness, that
which I have already said to you, my R., that it
appeared to me as if the Pope and the Pontificate
occupied too much space in the church.
He replied: "We regard the Pope as the representa
tive of Jesus Christ, and honour him as such."
" Do you find him like Jesus Christ ? " was upon my
tongue to say ; but I said it not. I knew, indeed, what
the reply would be, and I had, besides, already shown
myself so much of a heretic, that his Eminence, on
taking his departure, did not vouchsafe me a glance,
bestowing upon Madame de M  merely a little
twinkling of the eyelid, after he had charged her to
commit herself to the prayers of St. Benoit," — (Madame
de M  is still lame, after a severe fall from a car
riage) — he departed, accompanied by half a dozen bow
ing and bending priests, who seemed to me to constitute
his train. A young Benedictine monk from Germany,

94 MADAME DE M-

who not long since became a convert from Protestantism
to the Catholic faith, and who had the zeal and fervour
of a new proselyte, accompanied us through the church,
and wished, by all means, to convert me to Catholicism,
and also to show me Luther's error and delusions. Im
patience and cold made me cut the conversation short ;
besides, one cannot argue with a person who begins his
proofs by a pompous announcement that " the Catholic
Church considers the human being to consist of both
soul and body ! "
In the meantime, there was no lack of controversy
for me in Rome, for even my countrywoman, Madame
de M  , is lately converted to the Catholic Church,
and would gladly make me a proselyte for her own
salvation ; and I like to talk with her. Hers is a
fervent, earnest soul, deeply imbued with a knowledge
of religious life, and which I, on my side, wished to
lead to a truer view of the essential, both in religion
and in the religious life. But it is delightful to see the
doctrine of the Catholic Church reflect itself in a pure
and upright soul — to understand what it is in this doc
trine which is so satisfying to such a soul, so that she
has scarcely words for the happiness which she enjoys ;
so that every flower of earth has a new fragrance, a
new splendour for her eye, and that the thorn of
suffering — which she now experiences physically — has
lost its sting to her. This is precious to me, both to
see and to understand, yet it is strange how she, at the
same time, can deny to me — who, in my own church,
enjoy a happiness so kindred to her own — all partici
pation in the " only saving church."
" If you enter by the gate of San Sebastiano, and I
by the Porta del Popolo, what does it matter ? — merely
that we are both in Rome !" said I, on one occasion.
"No, no, you are not in Rome, not in the actual

" I WILL ASK THE POPE ! " 95
Rome, the holy, eternal city!" replied she, gravely;
"but you will come in, nevertheless. God will en
lighten you; I shall pray for you, and — you must
talk with Monsignor L  ."
" But, like you, I believe in one God and Saviour ;
like you, I see his church, or his kingdom, embrace,
elevate the whole world, mankind, nature, and  "
" No, no, you do not believe on the right church ;
you do not belong to the church which Christ founded
on earth, and unless you do you cannot have relation
ship with him ! "
" But I love Him, He is all my joy and hope ; I
desire to be His servant !"
" But it is not sufficient to be called Christian."
" Well, I will ask the Pope !"
Such have hitherto been our conversations on these
questions ; but my half-jokingly expressed threat of
appealing to the Pope, I mean some day to carry into
execution. In the meantime, I study industriously my Mohler,
given to me by the good fathers at Einsiedeln ; and
this honest, profound, and candid work for Catholicism
aids me more decidedly to understand the strength and
weakness of Protestantism in relation to the Catholic
Church ; for I must confess that, in my examination
and proving of the tenets of the two opposing churches,
I do not always stand on the side of Protestantism;
and the but and the no which, from my earliest youth,
rose up in my soul against certain doctrines of the re
formers, become ever still more decided. It becomes
ever more and more certain to me that they in their
honest zeal more than once threw away the child with
the water he was washed in, and that the Catholic
Church has kept more than one precious doctrine, which
the evangelical must yet adopt as her own if she will

96 PROTESTANTISM.
fully deserve the name of evangelical. But the Pro
testant reform has dragged the human soul from under
the mass of forms and human inventions, which, like
an immense crystallization, a forest of parasites, had
crept over it, threatening to suffocate its life ; it has
dragged the Holy Scriptures from the darkness which
 But I will not repeat what I have already said,
and what you, my R., probably know as well as I do,
because 
But you are sleepy — Good night !

97

TWELFTH STATION.
New-Year's Thoughts — Romantic Preludes — Festal Life in Rome
— Beggars — Museo Christiano — Evening in the Palazzo Far-
nese — Festival of the Propaganda — Cold and Catarrh — View
from the Capitol — Carnival — Influenza — Preparation for Lent
— Pontifical Jubilee, and Pontifical Bill of Fare— Soiree at the
Grants' — Cardinal Antonelli.
January, 1858. — A happy new year to Italy, Sweden, to
the whole world, and to you, my R. ! Our hemisphere
turns again towards the sun, and absorbs his rays with re
newed force. They shine into my soul, into my mind,
which this morning feel fresh and bright, able to re
ceive that which the new year ever preaches, and that
which Rome preaches to me like the new year. For it
preaches a sermon, this ancient city, a doctrine in sym
bolic signs and monuments, which become ever clear to
me daily, and which strike me with new clearness in
the light of the new year. And this sermon is Risor-
gimento ! Vita Nuova ! The Phoenix, the wonderful
bird, shakes his wings in the ascending sun above the an
cient city, and indicates its life — an ascending meta
morphosis. There stand the Egyptian obelisks, evidences
of the most ancient art, and the most ancient worship.
VOL. II. H

98 ROME, THE PHOENIX.
They stand rigid, pointing upwards, testifying by their
hieroglyphic inscriptions that mankind worshipped God
in their earthly rulers and in nature. But above the
oriental columns now stands a star, a cross. These
proclaim that a crucified, buried and arisen son of
man has delivered mankind from the hand of despots,
and from the wild chaos of Pantheism, and raised them
nearer to Heaven.
Herestand the splendid columns of Trajan and Antoni
nus, covered withbas-reliefs in commemoration of the vic
tories of the Roman people over foreign nations, who
were led captive in the triumphal processions of the con
querors. Formerly the statues of their conquerors
crowned the columns, but now instead stand the figures
of Peter and Paul, apostles of the doctrines of peace.
They have conquered the apostles of war, and the people
are no more dragged along in rude triumphal proces
sion. Here rise in solemn, mournful beauty the broken co
lumns of the Forum, ruins of the place where, for the
first time, the rights of the people found unflinching
supporters and protectors, through the force of language
and public opinion. Long may those columns remain in
their ruinous beauty. This Forum is needed no longer.
It shows the way. But the all-subjecting power of
the new time is supported by spiritual columns, which
can neither be broken nor yet fall. Christianity and
the free press have made this impossible. And upon
the consecrated form of humanity — thank Heaven ! —
even the captive speaks, even silent sighs are heard !
Modern Rome has been built upon the site of ancient
Rome, and in great measure out of its ruins. Upon
the spot where stood the golden house of Nero, the
palaces of Claudius and Caracalla, the temples of the
heathen divinities, now rise Christian churches and

THE CHURCH. 99
temples, where art ministers to the highest ideas. The
symbol of the cross is reared upon the Capitol, as well as
on the spires of the temple of Minerva. Catholic Rome
arose out of the pile of the heathen imperial Rome, and
became a ruler even as she had been; and that on the
plea of eternal right. The Catholic Church was then
the Christian Church, great in power and in wisdom ;
she possessed the keys of the kingdom of Heaven —
Christ's revelation and its doctrines. Thus she became,
during the minority, and the half savage condition of
the world, the educator who led the people to the
Saviour,. to order and to unity. She became the great
seminary, where they should learn to become a sacerdo
tal people, a people to the honour of God. She became
the mother who fosteringly clasped all people to her
bosom. She had a right to do so, because the treasures
of the highest life were in her possession ; she must do
it, even with authority and severity, because the age
was half savage, and the people and their princes violent
and given to war. But during the struggle to over
come and reduce the world to order, she availed herself
of worldly weapons, and becoming herself worldly, forgot
her ideal and the significance of the word, the Church.
Christ never spoke of the Church but as of the king
dom of God on earth, and made it clear, both by word
and deed, what that kingdom is.
The representatives of Christ on earth, popes and
bishops, forgot by degrees that the kingdom of God was
something different to the structure of ecclesiastical
forms, which was merely raised with the intention of
preparing or sheltering it. And as the emperors,
seated on the world's throne, became dizzy from their
elevation, and fancied themselves to be gods, so, by
degrees, the popes, grown dizzy under. their cowls, be
lieved themselves to be our Lord's true and only instru-
n2

100 THE TWO CHURCHES.
ments, directly inspired by the Holy Ghost. They
even set themselves in God's place on earth ; and the
Catholic Church, from having been a nursing and wise,
though sometimes a severe mother, became a wicked
step-mother, who persecuted, banished, and burned,
without mercy, the children who would not in all things
conform to her bidding, or who ventured to think that
she had forgotten the divine, eternal command, in fol
lowing alone her own worldly interests and caprices.
A portion, however, of the children who had attained to
years of discretion through the teachings of Christ, could
neither be destroyed by one means nor another. They
became more and more numerous (they were called, ei
ther from the places whence they came, or from the
names of their leaders, Waldenses, Albigenses, Hussites,
Wickliffites, and so on), until, under the guidance of Lu
ther and Calvin, they became mighty in strength and
maturity of mind ; and, on the ground of conscience and
the word of God, threw off the papal yoke, and declared
themselves free to obey God alone in the light of his
Gospel. This became the palladium of the Protestant
peoples. When the Church of Rome saw nation after nation
separate themselves from her, she sought to reconquer
them by all possible means, even by that of self-
reformation, by the discontinuance of various abuses,
and by degrees even the stake, the torture — at least
in its grossest form — if not from conviction, yet from
fear ; and some of its noblest members gained souls by
the love, the admiration which they inspired. All this,
however, was but to little purpose. The two Christian
churches continued to be divided, each one claiming to
possess the essential of Christianity. And both have
it — and both have it incompletely. But the Catholic
requires blind obedience to his authority, and allows

THE NEW YEAR. 101
no free inquiry, no independent use of the light of
reason. And in this respect she is the church of those
who are in pupilage, of those who have not faith in
the Divine Light, in human reason and the conscience,
and in the human ability to understand the revealed
Word of God by this light. Will she long continue
what she now is — the greater portion of the Christian
church? May she be so until the Protestant church
shall have advanced to a higher consciousness, to a
more spiritual life — till she have regained and inter
preted in a higher light many of the ever-preserved
treasures of the Catholic Church. Then perhaps will
this Church acknowledge that which the younger sister
has won, and understand what it is which she desires,
and then both may go on to their transformation,
ascend to a new life, a church, a kingdom, in spirit and
in truth, such as our Lord and Master desires it to be!
I have faith in the eternal power of life, have faith
in the ascending metamorphosis, of which the Roman
monuments preach. And as certain flowers, beloved
by the sun, develop a metamorphosis more than the
others, so ought this soil, warm with the life of beauty
and of the blood of martyrs, to become a sun-flower,
which shall represent the transfiguration of the Christian
church into a glorious kingdom of God. May it be so !
But as yet the time is far distant !
The new year has entered our quiet little northern
home, on the noisy Corso, with an occurrence which
has made a new year in the life of my young friend,
and has gladdened me with the sight of the power of
pure love and gratitude in the female heart. For my
young Swiss sister, also, as I learn from a letter just
received, has the new year brought with it a new
chapter, the contents of which are love and marriage !

102 THE BEGGARS.
January \2th. — If the weather be beautiful, as it has
been almost uninterruptedly since we came here, then
life in Rome is to the stranger like an incessant festival.
Every day brings with it something new to see, some
thing new to think about, interesting for beauty, or
spectacle, or curiosity. The palaces and collections of
works of art are always open to visitors, the prome
nades are always splendid with gay equipages and
toilettes, the fountains are always playing, and the
roses always blooming brightly beneath the dark blue
sky. One can rejoice daily in the power and life of
the sun, and in the ever-varied scenes and the grand
views which it lights up.
The beggars in Rome do not constitute any dark
shadow in these pictures. One sees and knows that
they practise a trade which they are accustomed to,
and from which very few of them could be weaned.
Every beggar has his own peculiar style, and he is
certain that it will produce him something. In the
evening he counts over his little earnings — probably
three or four paoli — less than two shillings, I have been
told, and passes a cheerful evening, able also to lay by
a little for the future. Begging is a species of fishing,
and it has all the interest of that occupation. Custom
has removed any humiliation which might otherwise
attend it. Some beggars — as the well-known Beppo
on the Piazza di Spagna — are wealthy, but they can
not leave off begging. They are accustomed to it;
life to them without it would be wearisome, and the
sun in Rome takes care that they do not suffer much
from their exposure on the streets and squares.
Some years ago the police endeavoured to introduce
a reform. The beggars were provided with shelter
and food, but, at the same time, kept within bounds.
But they could not endure the confinement. One old

THE LIFE AND OUR LIFE. 103
woman threw herself out of the window, and was killed
by the fall. After this no attempt was made to circum
scribe the freedom of the beggars. And they are not
pertinacious, and do not persecute you as at Pisa.
Each one has his own post and seat, and he calls upon
the passers-by. (For the peace of my own conscience,
I give a bajocco daily.) At noon the gates of the
Capuchin convents are opened, and bread and soup is
dealt out — which they on their part have begged — to
the hungry, who gather round their steps. The soup
may be meagre enough, but still it is something. The
poor human sparrows are accustomed to be satisfied
with the crumbs of life. The sun, the air, freedom,
that delicious far niente, give them enough to make
them enjoy life — -a miserable life, it is true, but 
I will now speak of the strangers in Rome.
Whilst these, during the day, throng the museums,
visit churches and promenades, social life opens for
them in the evening its saloons, and people talk
pleasantly over their tea, confectionary, and ices ; or
the theatres also invite them by music — sometimes
very good — or by tragedies of Alfieri, or comedies by
Goldoni. Even Jenny and I have our rich share in
this festal life. In the evening, however, I prefer
remaining at home, sitting by the fire in our drawing-
room, listening to Jenny as she reads to me by lamp
light, and letting the while my eyes wander from the
quietly flickering flames of the fire to her gentle
Madonna-like countenance, more beautiful still when
seen by this light. But we do not always enjoy quiet
ness like this. We are frequently visited by Scan
dinavian friends, sometimes by foreigners, amongst
whom was this day a young Duke di Torlonia, a very
agreeable young man, and one of the few amongst the
young nobility of Rome who are cultivated by litera-

104 MY STUDIES.
ture. Twice in the week comes my professor of Italian
literature, Signor Barguillione, a mild, little, amiable,
and learned man, and perfect genius in languages. He
reads Dante with me, to a perpetual accompaniment of
e molto philosophico ! molto grazioso, bello, bellissimo!
Ho capito? Ho cajrito? As we are still in the Hell,
and Dante's fancy is especially rich in horrible punish
ments and torments, I am not able to accord with his
e molto grazioso, molto bellissimo, but perhaps it will be
otherwise when we arrive in Purgatory. I have also
begun to read with him the old Roman language, the
metallic clang and beautiful rhythm of which always
delighted me. I believe with the wise Solon, that one
is never too old to learn; but I begin to suspect that
one may be too old to learn a new language.
Kind friends have provided us with many excellent
works on Italy, its art and artists. And it has been a
pleasure to me thus to make the acquaintance of Vit
toria Colonna, alike noble as a woman and a poetess ;
with Michael Angelo and Raphael in the letters written
by them and many other artists, which have lately been
published by Giihl. Michael Angelo gains on this ac
quaintance, and Raphael loses. In the letters of the
former you see profound thought and religious earnest
ness, a something honest, strong, and benevolent, kind
and simple. He is something more than merely an
artist. Raphael in his letters speaks about nothing but
money ; and when the subject is his own marriage, he
mentions that the "lovely child " has such and such a
number of scudi. One sees no trace of the great
maestro, and no trace either of noble humanity. Never
theless, Vasari says of him that wherever he came he
brought with him a spirit of peace and harmony which
diffused a sense of satisfaction to every one and every
thing. It is singular that Raphael at his death desired

IL BEATISSIMO BAMBINO. 105
to be buried by the side of the young girl to whom
he had been betrothed, and who died before him, but
whom he did not love like la Fornarina and others.
The love of Michael Angelo for Vittoria Colonna is of
the highest class. From his short, but not unfrequently
interesting letters, I was struck by the often-recurring
closing sentence, " Nothing further occurs to me at this
time ; " or, " I have nothing more to add ! " A re
markably candid and sensible expression !
I will now say a few words regarding what 1 have
seen and learnt during the last ten or twelve days.
In the first place, I will tell you about the festival in
the church of Ara Cceli, on the 6th inst. 11 Beatis-
simo Bambino was now to be carried out from the
manger to bless the Roman people, and then to be put
by again till next Christmas. The lofty steps of Ara
Coeli looked like an ant hillock, so thronged were they
with people. Men and boys who sold little books
(legends and prayers), rosaries, pictures of saints, me
dallions, chestnuts, oranges, and other things, shouted
and made a great noise. Little boys and girls were
still preaching zealously in the church, and people of
all classes "were crowding thither. Processions ad
vanced with the thundering cheerful music of the fire-
corps. II Bambino, a painted image of wood, covered
with jewels, and with a yellow crown on its head, was
carried by a monk in white gloves, and exhibited to
the people from a kind of altar-like erection at the top
of the Ara Coeli steps. Everybody dropped down
upon their knees ; 11 Bambino was shown on all sides,
the music thundered, and the smoking censers were
swung. In about an hour II Bambino was carried back into
the church, and the throng of people dispersed. It
was pleasant to see how quietly and amiably they con-

106 PICTURES FROM THE CATACOMBS.
ducted themselves, although the greater number con
sisted of ill-dressed men and boys. Devotion, properly
so-called, I did not observe in these countenances, but
neither did I see anything resembling laughter or deri
sion. The people believed evidently in 11 Bambino, or
had a sense of its symbolic significance, as an image of
the child who came to give the people the treasures of
the kingdom of heaven.
On the 8th of January I visited Villa Ludovisi, in
company with several Scandinavians. Amongst its
antique statues is a colossal head of Juno, and a figure
of Minerva, of great beauty, but, like all the antique
divinities, cold, without any expression of human love
and sympathy. It was pleasant to wander in the laurel
and pine groves of the extensive grounds, to see the
cattle grazing in the green meadows, where the lemon
trees shone out with their fine fruit, and where the
narcissus was about to burst into bloom. The air was
like that of a beautiful May day in Sweden.
On the 9th, Madame de Martino drove me to the
museum of the old church San Giovanni di Lateran,
where Cavaliere De Rossi is now forming a separate
Museo Christiano, of the valuable relics, together with
the inscriptions, which he discovers in the Catacombs.
De Rossi met us in the gallery in order to be our
guide. He arranges here burial inscriptions and pic
tures, according to the various periods when they were
executed, and the places where they were found, so
that this museum will supply an historical and geogra
phical picture of the Catacomb world.
The first pictures that are presented to our observa
tion are of the Good Shepherd, who carries the lost
sheep upon his shoulders. Then came pictures from the
Old and New Testaments. The miracles of Christ with
the bread, restoring sight to the blind, and the raising

THE ELOQUENT COUNT. 107
of Lazarus, are often seen. It is not until the third
century that we see the crown of thorns, and pictures
of the suffering Saviour. So much did the painters of
Rome fear to become " an offence to the Romans, and
to the Greeks foolishness."
It was interesting to observe the manner in which
the industrious and patient antiquarian labours at put
ting together the various burial inscriptions which he
has found, scattered about and broken into small frag
ments. Of my evenings passed in society I can particularly
recall one spent at the Neapolitan minister's, in the Pa
lazzo Farnese, during which I was so' agreeably enter
tained by a Ligurian Count, that the evening hours ap
peared to me to be minutes. I have forgotten his
name, but his conversation, full of striking and fine ob
servation, brilliant and fluent like a continuous impro
visation, I can never forget ; and in order the better to
retain it, I will note down a few expressions regarding
Italy and the Italians.
" The Italian nation, composed of widely different
original races, has nevertheless, through the superior in
fluence of climate and scenery, acquired a certain unity,
a certain character. The sun has, as it were, amalga
mated them into one nation ; but it will still require a
long time for it to become mature. The Neapolitans
represent at once the natural life in its fulness, and the
life of thought in its intensity. The former is repre
sented by the people in their everyday life and songs —
one often meets with improvisatori of both sexes — the
culmination of the sun life. The wealthy and high
born, on the contrary, love to occupy themselves with
learned studies, especially the philosophical. The
greatest philosopher of Italy, Vico, and in recent times
Galuppi, were Neapolitans. At the present day the

108 MIND IN NAPLES.
Neapolitan youth of the higher class pursue their
studies for their pleasure and pastime, never thinking
at all of enlightening the world by that means. The
bias of the Germans towards the Weltverbesserung
is unknown to them. They love to rest and to enjoy,
and Germany's great Hegel even strengthens this pas
sion. ' Questo Hegel quanto e grazioso ! ' said a young
Neapolitan Count of the great thinker, who is, how
ever, so perilous to many.
" This love of philosophical studies appears to have
been inherited by the Neapolitans from the Greeks,
who emigrated in great numbers from their country to
establish themselves in Southern Italy, then Magna
Grecia. There is a more literary activity in Naples
than in Rome, especially as regards translations from the
French and German. But a meritorious scientific
journal, Vico, which is published there, is about to be
discontinued from the want of support.
"Mind, in Naples, is, as it were, within a diving-bell
— it cannot breathe freely, and it has, therefore, no free
worshippers. Where there is no freedom, is stag
nation and death. Mind dives in vain into the depths;
it cannot bring up thence any true pearls to the
day. A late evidence of this is Padre Tosti, a warm
hearted, liberal-minded monk of Monte Casino, whose
noble, patriotic history of La Lega Lombarda, dedi
cated to Pio Nono, obtained for him, from the King of
Naples, several months' imprisonment ; and, even
afterwards, when, at the request of the Pope, he was
released, unceasing surveillance."
According to Count  , the Serbes are the only
branch of the Sclaves, inhabiting the provinces of the
Danube, who are possessed of a national independent
life, as well as power to combat for its maintenance.
The rest, under the dominion of Austria or Turkey,

" SOCIETY." 109
satisfy themselves with a slavish imitation of the
manners and fashions of the European nations, espe
cially of the French. Such are the more wealthy of
these people : the poor, or labouring classes, are igno
rant and rude — not much above mere animals.
I obtained from M. de Martino, Padre Tosti's work,
La Lega Lombarda. " The best book ever written ! "
added the Neapolitan minister, whom I find to be an
intellectual, liberal-minded man, astonishingly frank in
his mode of expression. His appearance is kind,
clever and refined, and shows also decided character.
The Neapolitan quality sat at the card table, gentle
men, for the most part, with beautiful heads and glossy
black hair. A young princess, beautiful as a statue,
with a red camellia in her dark brown hair, sat there
the whole evening. For the rest, these handsome
princes, with their handsome names, are not treated
with much more ceremony than less noble people.
"Prince d'lsola Bella, be so good as to ring the
bell ! " said Mme. de Martino, to a young, noble-look
ing gentleman, who hastily obeyed. My blonde young
Swedish friend, with her fair complexion and bright
blue eyes, her quiet, agreeable demeanour, looked
extremely well in that circle of dark-eyed, dark-haired
Italians. De Rossi was also present, and devoted him
self principally to her. Guests were still arriving at
midnight. Yesterday (January 11th), Jenny and I were
present at the Lutheran service in the Prussian chapel
on Monte Caprino, near the Capitol. How pure, simple,
and sincere it appeared in comparison with the worship
of the Romish Church, and how much more edifying !
It was exactly like coming out of the oppressive atmo
sphere of frankincense, into the pure, spring air be
neath the free, open heaven !

110 KISSING THE GOLDEN FOOT.
For the establishment of this Lutheran church we
have to thank the late Prussian minister, now Baron von
Bunsen, who obtained means from the King of Prussia
for this purpose. In connection also with the church,
and, through the same endeavours, has a hospital been
established, also on the Tarpeian Rock, for Protestant
Christians, together with a house where travellers of
this faith can be received.
In the afternoon I went to the church of the Augus-
tines, to see the kissing of the golden foot of the
Madonna. This ceremony was being performed still
more zealously than on the former occasion. How
they came in troops and companies, well and ill
dressed, men and women, old people and young chil
dren ! How they pressed around the jewel-covered,
lamp-lighted, marble figure ! — a beautiful figure, with a
mild, noble, maternal expression. How fervently they
kissed her golden toes ! One old soldier kissed them
six times in succession, with great feeling. Afterwards
they took of the holy oil (in a lamp), and touched with
it their forehead, throat, breast and neck. It wa3,
however, remarkable to witness, and that for hour after
hour; the place was never empty, frequently there
was an amazing crowd. Much money was heard to
chink as it fell down into the box at the foot of the
Madonna. A number of people were on their knees
praying before the altar. Two of these, an elderly
man and woman, had both of them such an affecting
expression of deep feeling in their countenances and
manner, that I could not but pray for them and with
them, although not, like them, to the Madonna.
" We have a ladder of supplicators from earth up to
the highest heaven ! " I have heard Catholics say.
"And we need no such ladder," the Protestant
Christian may reply, "because we stand, through
Christ, in immediate relationship to God ! "

PROPAGANDA. Ill
We shall to-day be present at the great annual
festival of tongues, of the Jesuits' Propaganda for la
fede Christiana.
January 14th. — This Collegio di Propaganda was
founded by Gregory XV., for the purpose of educating
Christian missionaries of all nations, who afterwards,
each in his own tongue, should proclaim the doctrine of
Christ in his own native land. It is a grand idea !
But the festival of tongues this year did not give a high
sense of the present stand-point of the Institution. I
naturally expected to hear the praise of Christ and his
doctrine expressed in many different languages. But
the subject given out to all was la Colonna, which Pio
Nono has had erected in honour of the immaculate
Virgin on the Piazza di Spagna. All the pupils of the
Propaganda were, therefore, to deliver an encomium on
this column. And it was the glorification of la Colonna
and the Virgin Mary, which again and again was
repeated in emphatic verse, and expressed in Hebrew,
Armenian, Persian, Arabic, Koptic, Greek, Latin,
and many other old languages, as well as many more
modern ones — nay, I believe, in every modern tongue
except Swedish. A pale little boy represented the
Danish. The Hebrew, Persian, and Latin sounded to my
ears the most beautiful of all the ancient tongues; and of
the newer modern, Italian, Spanish, German, and English,
which two last were very well declaimed. The Sclave
language was deficient in elevated sound, the Chinese
in all melody, the syllables tumbled one against
another, and clattered disagreeably. The language of
the Ethiopians, as well as of the South Sea Islands,
sounded like the beginning of languages ; the latter in
particular were more like animal sounds than perfected
words, and the islanders who used them resembled

112 A BABEL.
half-animal human beings. They gave us also two
little songs, consisting of few notes, melancholy and
weak, but not without grace. The children of Africa
had more character and more peculiar beauty in appear
ance and expression.
The actors in this scene were from two to three hun
dred youths — part of them almost children, the others
approaching manhood — who sat on benches in a half-
circle, at the end of a kind of theatre ; he who had to
speak stepped forward on the stage, and when he had
concluded, was usually saluted by the audience with a
salvo of clapping, sometimes with one of laughter.
The first part closed with a scene which they called
la confusion de la tour de Babel, in which all the actors
began at once to say or to sing mass, each one in his
own tongue, which produced a horrible charivari, and
was received with great laughter and loud clapping of
hands. "Is this inde'ed a religious festival?" exclaimed,
with indignation, a young Swedish lady, who sat
near me.
In the second part, King David himself, in the
person of a dark-bearded gentleman, probably of Jewish
descent, came forth and sung la Colonna, to the accom
paniment of his harp; other prophets joined in the
chorus. It was beautiful and  ridiculous !
The queen-dowager of Spain, Maria Christina, was
present, accompanied by her youngest daughter, several
cardinals, -together with a Papal guard. She sat in the
place of honour, very corpulent, but with a countenance
still beautiful. Her young daughter is a beauty, and
lately betrothed to a little ugly Italian prince.
The festival, taken as a whole, was very splendid,
curious, and interesting, in its own way, but without
earnestness or religious purpose.

A WINTER SCENE IN THE STREETS. 113
" Roba per i forestieri!" say the serious Romans,
speaking of such festivals, at which they are them
selves seldom present. Roba, equivalent to the French
word chose and the Swedish sale, is used for everything
which is spoken of as a whole ; for instance, a Roman
working man said to me, speaking of the Tiber, e poco
roba; your luggage, a festival, an occurrence, any
thing, whatever it may be, is roba.
" Roba per i forestieri" (a something for the fo
reigners), said, disparagingly, a Roman matron, of the
festival of the holy week in St. Peter's, at which she
herself never was present.
The last day of January. — Intense cold for the last
fourteen days. An icy tramontana prevails in the air ;
icicles hang from the fountains; the Roman people
shiver and sneeze, and declare that it has not been so
cold for twenty years, that it is unheard of, and so on ;
the weather is, nevertheless, bright, and at noon the
sun lights a fire in his attic, which warms up, for a few
hours, the air and the streets of the city : one then sees
a number of poor people belonging to the city, as well
as country people from the mountains around Rome,
men in pointed hats and with goat-skin breeches,
women in white head-dresses, red bodices, and strings
of pearls, sitting or lying with their handsome little
children, on the broad steps from the Piazza di Spagna
up to the terrace of Trinita di Monte. There they sit
and lie hour after hour, warming themselves in the
sun, and eating chestnuts, apples, and dreadfully sour
oranges, waiting, I believe, for the artists, who find
amongst them their models. But everywhere in Rome,
wherever the sun shines warm, and a wall offers a
shelter against the tramontana, you see people crowd
ing together as round a comfortable fire ; at the street-
corners people stand round large chafing-dishes, and
VOL. II. I

1 1 4 EARTHQUAKES IN CALABRIA.
women and girls, whether walking or standing, are
always holding their hands over the little clay pitchers
with handles, called marito, which contain live coals.
The whole population of Rome is now employed in
warming itself, and little winged insects dance about in
the sun with the same design.
Spite of the cold, however, there is every afternoon,
from three o'clock till dusk, an unceasing procession of
carriages, in a double row, with handsome horses and
handsome, splendidly-attired ladies and moustachioed
gentlemen ; and on the outside of the procession stand,
head close to head, a legion of gentlemen, who simply
stare on the passing equipages, and this standing far-
niente, is the noble Roman pastime. Between the mag
nificent equipages, with their splendid and plumed
ladies, comes now and then an open hired carriage, in
which are seated two or three women of the populace,
and the same number of men to match, the women
with bare heads ; and they, too, drive in the procession,
and wheel round on Monte Pincio, in company with
the gay world, and nobody says anything about it ; it
appears all to be in due course. In other European
cities, and even in the free states of America, I fancy
that people would be somewhat astonished at this kind
of equality.
The topics of conversation at the present moment
are the last attempt made in Paris against the life of
the French Emperor by means of the infernal machine,
and the terrible earthquakes which, within the last
month, have converted several towns of Calabria into
heaps of ruins, and caused the destruction of about
eighteen thousand human beings ! The only one large
newspaper of Rome, the official journal, Giornale di
Roma, gives the most circumstantial account of these
events, as well as of the assistance — "the most effi-

PREPARATION FOR THE CARNIVAL. 115
cient," as it assures its readers — which the King
of Naples has rendered to these afflicted places and
people. For the rest, everybody is preparing for the Carnival :
provision dealers are raising their prices ; confectioners'
shops are filled with comfits of all sorts and colours ; and
on the Corso, Piazza Colonna, and Piazza del Popolo,
galleries and boxes are being erected for spectators of
the festivities of the gay week — for it is not much
beyond a week that the grand spectacle of the Roman
Carnival extends ; and people are making ready to in
dulge the flesh in every way — of course such as are
permissible — during this time, at the close of which
they must take leave of the pleasures of the same —
Carne-Vale ! — in order that during the fast of a month
they may consider what belongs to heaven.
People promise themselves this year an unusually
gay carnival, because the Pope has now, for the first
time since 1848 — the year of the revolution — permitted
the use of masks, at the express desire, it is said, of her
Catholic majesty the queen- dowager, Maria Christina,
who, being a gay lady, wishes to see the gayest scene
of Rome in all its splendour. She herself gives this
winter, in her hotel on the Piazza di Spagna, a grand
reception every week, costume-balls and other festivi
ties, to which all are invited who are presented to her,
as well of Roman society as of foreigners of rank.
During one of the past days, which was less severe
than the rest, we visited, in company with some Norwe
gian countrymen, the cradle of Rome, Monte Palatino,
where "La Picciolissima Roma" was founded by Ro
mulus, and by degrees grew to be the mistress of the
world. . The ruins of the palace of the Caesars lie now
in shapeless, gigantic masses, and heaps spread over a
vast extent of this elevation, and it is now no longer
12

116 MONTE PAL ATINO.
possible to discover what was the form of the building,
or the plan of its design. All they know is, that they
are not arranged according to any regular plan ; that
many emperors, one after the other, and also various
great or wealthy men, built for themselves palaces or
villas upon this eminence, without troubling themselves
about any conformity with what had gone before.
Cicero and Augustus are said to have had here quite
simple houses, and it is said also that a great number of
insignificant dwellings were interspersed amongst the
magnificent temples and palaces. In the meantime, it
is known that here it was, and also between the heights
of the Capitol, the Esquiline, and Aventine hills, that
the highest splendour of imperial Rome in its palaces
and temples was to be met with. It was here that for
merly were found, and still are to be found — although as
shadows of their ancient splendour — the baths of Livia.
Here were the gardens of Adonis, laid out in the lux
urious taste of the East. It was at the foot of the
Palatine hill that Nero's golden house was situate, with
its three thousand columns and a world of plundered
treasure. Of all these palaces nothing now remains
but some walls and heaps of rubbish. Here and there
only may be distinguished the form of a rotunda, a
tower, an arched passage, a gate, or a room ; and here
and there also a piece of bas-relief. Bushes of laurel,
rosemary, and a species of oak, garland these shapeless
masses, and constitute the only beauty which now
belongs to them.
A large cabbage-garden occupies the height of Monte
Palatino, and cabbage grows excellently in the old clas
sical soil. This cabbage-garden seems to me in this
situation properly symbolic, because the last of the
great Roman emperors, Diocletian, laid aside his crown
to live at rest and "plant cabbage." Nevertheless, he

THE BATHS OF LIVIA. 117
was not able to eat his cabbage in peace, but was
obliged to purchase his imperial elevation by a life of
sorrow, which ended in suicide. The view of Rome,
its extensive Campagna and surrounding mountains, is,
from this point, of the grandest and most beautiful de
scription ; the wind blows fresh and free over the
height. One cannot wonder that the great men of
Rome loved to dwell and to build here ; one rather
wonders, indeed, that they left during the last centuries,
and that they still leave, the gloriously-situated Monte
Palatino to its ruins and cabbage-gardens.* The only
part of the hill which is covered with houses and in
habited is that which a wealthy Englishman converted
into a beautiful garden, and which is called after him
Villa Mills. It is now the residence of an order of
nuns, who there enjoy the purest air and the most beau
tiful view : but they possess their paradise to themselves
alone. In the bath-room of Livia, to which you ascend by
a flight of steps and an underground passage, there are
still some well-preserved portions of beautiful painted
pictures and arabesques, with the gilding still perfect,
both on the walls and the roof. You see blue figures
upon a golden ground, and golden figures upon a sky-
blue ground, with sprays of flowers and other decora
tions, which prove the ancient splendour of the room.
* Perhaps they are afraid of ghosts, as was the watchman in
the Thermae of Caracalla, which I visited to-day. I asked him if
he remained there all night ? " Heaven forbid !" replied he with
horror, and added mysteriously: — "He, the old Caracalla, comes
again! I myself saw him once! He looks horrible, with horns
and claws ! A Padre has since then sprinkled all the rooms here
with holy water, and repeated an exorcism — but nobody can trust
to that doing any good! He is un diavolo!" The still splendid
remains of these baths, mosaic floors, &c, were, during the Maz-
zini triumvirate, cleared and rendered visible. — Author's note.

118 VIEW FROM THE CAPITOL.
Everything besides, bathers' seats, tables, statues, all
are gone, and are now preserved in the museums. The
great business of life was to the heathen, in time of
peace, the enjoyment of life, in which the luxury of the
bath formed a part. We Christians have better and more
important objects. The principal enjoyments of the bath
are in every case pure water and the undisturbed repose
of the time, and the empress of Rome could not enjoy
these in her splendid bath-room more than the humblest
woman in a bathing-house devoid of all ornament. The
power of enjoyment equalizes many differences in
worldly fortune.
Another day I climbed, as in duty bound, up into
the tower of the Capitol, but I was richly rewarded for
my trouble. The sky was without a cloud, and beneath
its light was spread out the vast mosaic picture of
Rome in the greatest clearness and exactitude. The
verdant gardens lay like little lost bouquets in this world
of stone. The Tiber came out thence like a little brook
from its reservoir (I speak as it appeared from this
point), and soon lost itself behind Monte Aventino.
The old Pagan Rome — the Rome of the Republic and
the Empire — with its triumphal arches, the ruins of
the Forum, of temples and palaces ; the Papal Rome,
with the Vatican and St. Peter's ; the Quirinal, with its
San Giovanni di Lateran, Santa Maria Maggiore,
Scala Santa, pontifical gardens, its dwellings of priests
and monks ; the central Rome, with a few palaces and
an ant's-nest of lesser habitations, with the Ghetto, the
Jews' quarter, where they still all live together, though
not now, as formerly, within walls, which Pio Nono has
had removed — but still in the midst of darkness and
dirt, although not, properly speaking, in poverty ; *
* They are preserved from poverty by their great industry and
their fidelity to the command of Moses, "There shall be no poor

THE GRANDEUR OF ANCIENT ROME. 1 ] 9
and, finally, the modern Rome, with its Corso, Monte
Pincio, an4 Piazza di Spagna — all these, properly the
chief parts of Rome, indicate themselves with the
greatest clearness from this point. The characteristic
physiognomy of these several portions of the city, the
verdant Campagna, and around it the encircling moun
tains, here and there scattered with snow, the extensive
prairie-wide views in the direction of the sea, make the
view of Rome from the tower of the Capitol a magni
ficent spectacle.
The ruins of the imperial Rome from the Capitoline
rock appear to occupy but a small space in comparison
with the newer part of the city. But the aqueducts
and monuments of the Campagna shew the greatness
of the old imperial city. For the Rome of the present
day, with its hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants, is
merely a small remnant of the world-ruling city, which
in its circuit is said to have contained a population of
three millions, partly free and partly slaves.
People have in these later times sought in vain to
discover the plan of ancient Rome. Time, the ravages
of the barbarians, and, above all, those of the Romans
and the emperors themselves, have so frequently de
stroyed and plundered the city, that this has become
impossible. From a letter written by Raphael to Leo
X., I have seen that the former proposed to undertake
a picture which should represent the situation and splen
dour of ancient Rome, and he requests the pope's aid
amongst you ! " The Jews are in this respect an example which
the Christians do not equal. The narrow, dirty streets and the
dense population of the Ghetto, as well as the bad air, produce a
depressing effect. But this population, which in great part labours
out of doors, sitting in the streets, is cheerful and obviously in
comfortable circumstances ; and I have been assured that the air
there is healthy, far healthier than on the open Campagna. —
Author's note.

120 MUSEUM OF ANCIENT ART.
for this purpose. Raphael is indignant in his letter
against the manner in which the old gran4 buildings
and works of art are treated. Marble walls, statues, co
lumns, are broken for lime for the use of the new build
ings. " One may," he writes, " say that the new Rome
is built up with the lime of the old ! " Death inter
rupted Raphael's undertaking, and now its accomplish
ment is no more to be thought of.
This old, ruinous Rome is immediately surrounded
by merely insignificant houses and buildings, mostly in
habited by the poor. Clothes hung to dry around the
Forum ; and near the Capitoline rock, on the other side
of the Via Sacra, rattle the looms of the cotton-factory.
The present buildings of the Capitol are executed
from designs by Michael Angelo. The Roman Senate,
or rather its shadow, assemble now in the central pa
lace. In the two wings are museums of ancient works
of art. I have from those in the stone museum merely
taken for my own private museum two figures : the
head of Augustus as a child, and Augustus in old age,
remarkable from their resemblance and contrast. One
perfectly recognizes in the aged head the refined hand
some features of the boy ; the form of the head is the
same— and this is of a perfect Roman type, the head
broad rather than lofty, the forehead low, the expres
sion is still mild and even pure — but care has furrowed
the brow, painful experience given a bitter expression
to the beautifully-formed mouth — the imperial crown
has depressed this clear, wise head. A head of Caesar
has still less of the Roman type. The countenance is
long and narrow. The features, which are not beautiful,
have here a more than usually noble and Caesar-like
expression. Three heads of Socrates placed together re
present three degrees of ugliness. The sages and heroes
of antiquity were in a general way not handsome people.

" THE POTE IS COMING ! " 121
Now, my R., I have nothing to tell you about the
many galleries, Doria, Barberini, Borghese, and others,
which, like all other inquisitive and art-loving travellers
in Rome, I have visited ; neither about the Vatican and
its art-treasures. Good R., do not expect that 1 shall
weary you or myself with descriptions which so many
others have given, and will give better than I. Thank
me rather that I do not detain you with that which can
not in any way be understood unless it be seen. Nei
ther is it for these things that I have come hither. I
have not come for the sake of the dead, but of the living.
One thing I beg of you to believe, and that is, that if
you never visit Rome, if you are never able to behold
any one of those immortal works of art which its
museums contain, you may live a good, happy and per
fect life nevertheless — nay, become fully as immortal as
well here as hereafter. But if you visit Rome, then
visit the galleries of the Vatican, return again and again
to the Apollo, the Laocoon, and the Bacchus, the first
philanthropist ; neglect not either to visit Raphael's
picture of the Transfiguration in the pope's picture-gal
lery. Without having seen it, no one can have any
idea of his genius. This is all I have to tell you of the
treasures of the Vatican.
One day, when I was wandering alone in its halls, a
gendarme said to me hastily : —
" You must go out of this room — the pope is coming.
He is coming from the Sistine chapel, where he has
been at mass."
" Oh, let me remain here, I pray you ! " I replied,
" I should like to see the pope ! "
" Well, yes ; but you must come out of the way, and
fall on your knees when he comes ! "
" Sicuro ! "
And we waited. My gendarme protected me

122 THE FIRST DAY OF THE CARNIVAL.
against the servants who would have had me out, and
drilled me : " Now come here — now stand there — now
fall on your knees ! "
The pope came, preceded by a splendid train ; cardi
nals, in purple mantles and ermine, bore their staves
more proudly than princes now-a-days, proudest of all
Cardinal Antonelli, a very picturesque figure. The
pope, in scarlet attire, brought up the rear, good-tem
pered, stout, and jolly, without pretence and without
grandezza. February 4th. — Yesterday we saw Shakespeare's
" Othello " acted at the Argentine theatre. The prin
cipal part was performed with effective truth and Italian
fervour by the actor Salvini. This tragedy, otherwise
so distressing to me, by this means acquired beauty, and
afforded me enjoyment, which it had never done before.
Madame Carrola Brizzi, who acted Desdemona, has also
great talent, but her masculine voice is not in character
with this part. In the Othello of Salvini jealousy
shows itself as a species of mental disease, which inca
pacitates the rational thinking soul. His silent action
was a master-piece.
Saturday, February 6th. — The first Carnival day !
In the afternoon the balconies were clothed with bril
liant carpets and cloth, and the same also hung from all
the windows along the Corso. Comfits and bouquets were
carried along the streets. At three o'clock in the
afternoon the festival began. The Corso was filled
with people and gendarmes ; military, mounted and on
foot, were posted at the corners of all the streets, as
well as in the square. Crowds of ragged lads were
loitering about the Corso, shouting as they followed any
laughably-attired mask. Windows and balconies were
filling with gentlemen and ladies in dominoes : some in
costume. One saw many lovely faces. Jenny and I

BOUQUETS AND BONBONS. 123
have been invited for the whole of the Carnival to the
balcony of our amiable acquaintance in Rome, Mr. and
Mrs. Grant. It is in San Carlo Square, on the Corso,
and from it one has an excellent view, on every side, of
the Carnival fun. We stand in dominoes, with some
other people, amongst whom is the charming Duchess
of St. Albans, with a young son and daughter, as
handsome as the mother. The whole Corso, from the
Piazza di Venezia to the Piazza del Popolo looks like a
festivally decorated arena. But, for the first time
during many weeks, the sky is gray, and the streets
are wet after rain which has fallen in the night; it even
now looks threatening, and already has rained a little,
but the air is soft and calm ; the tramontana has left
Rome, and all windows are open. Some carriages, with
masks in costumes and dominoes, begin to drive up and
down the Corso ; the war with comfits and bouquets
has begun between pedestrians and those who are in
carriages, between the people in the streets and the
people at the windows, and in the balconies. They
seek either to powder one another, or to make a
present. Extremely beautiful bouquets and fine bon
bons come amongst quantities of others, which are less
beautiful, and not at all splendid. One is obliged, in the
meantime, to hold a fine wire gauze, in the form of a
little scoop, before the face, if one would escape
bruises. Our balcony is decorated with red and white,
and along the outside of the iron railing small boxes
are hung for the bouquets and comfits. Our agreeable
hostess belongs to the ornaments of her balcony, into
which flowers are assiduously thrown by gentlemen in
carriages and on foot.
The rainy, threatening clouds have damped a great
deal of the merriment, and people say, " The Carnival
has not yet begun, nor will it till Monday ! "

124 THE HORSE-RACE.
At five o'clock a mounted troop of soldiers in close
rank galloped at full speed up the Corso, in order to
clear the street, for now the horse-race was to begin.*
The people gather themselves close together by the
walls of the houses ; a pause succeeds, and then a loud,
exulting shout, which runs like wild-fire along the
Corso, and from the Piazza del Popolo speeds, in flying
career, a little troop of small horses, adorned with gold-
paper wings, or flags. Away they rush at full speed
along the Corso, up to the Piazza di Venezia, where
they are stopped, and the judges of the race award the
prizes which their owners shall receive. Scarcely have
the swift-footed steeds passed, when the throng of
people crowds after them like a swarming ant-hillock.
This closes the amusements of the day, and everybody
goes home, the greater number of pedestrians — more's
the pity ! — under umbrellas ; as do we, amongst the
rest. But my young friend is delighted with the
sport, has a great number of beautiful bouquets, and is
extremely amused. We close our day by reading
Guingine's interesting history of Italian literature.
February 11th. — We are in the very height of the
* I learned with astonishment that the Jews resident in Rome
are compelled to furnish the money which is run for at these races,
and which the owner of the winning horse receives ; and also that
by such payment the Jews purchase annually the exemption from
running in the Corso, and also permission to remain yet another
year in Rome. Anciently it was the Jews who were obliged to run
races during the Carnival, for the amusement of the Christian
populace ; and the assent which was given to their prayer to con
tinue yet another year in Rome was accompanied with — -a kick !
Both the racing and the kick are now dispensed with, but it is
declared that they are continued in the manner in which the per
mission is given. For the humiliating tribute is still exacted.
And yet the Roman state claims to be called the " most Christian,"
and the most civilized, and its Church the Mother of Christendom I
— Author's note.

l'ixconnu. 125
Carnival, but with unvarying cloudy and rain-threaten
ing skies. On Monday it was so ; the rain striving
against the sun, and finally gaining the mastery. The
Corso was, nevertheless, more animated than on Satur
day, and the warfare of comfits and flowers was carried
on very gaily ; but the carriages continued to be few
in number. People threw flowers at each other from
balcony to balcony, from window to window, and
people amused themselves with grand comfits strung
upon long threads fastened to long sticks, like fishing-
lines, which they enticed their acquaintance from one
story to another to catch ; or they deceived the boys in
the streets with these same tempting baits, which the
next moment were snatched up again. If anyone
wishes to be polite he fastens at the end of the string a
beautiful flower, or some other pretty little thing, and
allows it to be caught by the lady for whom it is intend
ed. The street-boys, however, are in general the
greatest winners by this polite warfare ; for everything
which misses its object and falls into the street belongs
to them, and that is not little.
The spectacle of the day again closed with horse-
racing — only six horses ; and then going home in a driz
zling rain. People deplored it with melancholy visages,
especially " on account of the poor," who calculate upon
their gains at the Carnival, as furnishing them with
their livelihood for many weeks. The little love-
making sports of the Carnivafare not, however, prevented
by the rain, and Jenny has gained an admirer, who
stands steadfastly before our balcony in San Carlo, and
makes her, under his umbrella, the most ardent declara
tions, both by looks and reverential gestures, sends
her exquisite bouquets, and follows us home in the
evening, at a distance. We call him Vinconnu.
Tuesday. — It cleared up in the morning, with a little

126 BETTER WEATHER.
sunshine at noon, whence were great anticipations. At
half-past three the Corso is full of people, driving and
walking, although the sky is again cloudy. People
seem as though they would seize upon the day with
fresh courage and good humour. The number of car
riages increases, and there are many handsome cos
tumes in them ; the flower warfare goes on briskly ; the
clouds, however, come down in showers of rain. But
the people will not be driven away, and hoist their
umbrellas ; Vinconnu also perseveres, under his um
brella, with his hand upon his heart, and his eye fixed
upon our balcony. We, however, take flight into the
drawing-room, where we console ourselves with beautiful
songs by our hostess, and with Mendelssohn's " Lieder
ohne Worte" played by a young German. Horse-
racing as on preceding evenings, and going home in
pouring rain.
"Make up your minds," says the artist Rudolf
Lehman, " it will not be any better during the whole
Carnival !"
He received, in reply, a chorus of " ah !" and " oh ! "
N.B. — Rudolf Lehman is one of the young men who
are on very intimate terms with the family, and who
come and go during the whole Carnival time as it
pleases them, and who thus add to the life and agree-
ableness of its society. How beautiful and cheerful all
this would be if the weather were but fine !  Good
night !
Wednesday. — Better weather ! decidedly better ! The
sky, however, is still cloudy, but without rain; and
there is a perpetual movement in the Corso, and a
skirmishing in Carnival fashion. Whilst Jenny drove
with our amiable young countryman, Baron Nordenfalks,
I went out upon a solitary ramble of observation, as I
am fond of doing, first to the harbour of the Tiber, La

ALONE ON MONTE PINCIO. 127
Ripetta, where all was unusually quiet and deserted ;
but the Tiber, now swollen by the rain, rolled its watera
more turbidly than ever beneath the dark leaden-grey
sky, carrying down impurity and dirty foam to the sea.
It was a dismal scene ! Thence I went to the Piazza
del Popolo, where good military music was being played,
and the carriages of the Corso turned round the obelisk
of Heliopolis, with its Egyptian lion ; lastly, up to
Monte Pincio, in order, from its summit, to look down
upon the variegated scene below.
The air, which was unspeakably mild and soft, seemed
to me like a youthful face bathed in tears — as one which
wept without suffering. There was a promise of spring,
of new, young life in this air, and the earth was fragrant
as cowslips in Sweden ; it went to my heart, and quite
affected me. From the hill-top I looked out over Rome ;
its vast buildings appeared, in the present state of the
atmosphere, quite close together : St. Peter's and the
Capitol, the fortress of St. Angelo, the mausoleum of
Adrian, and the ruins of the tower from which Nero
saw Rome burning, and rejoiced ; — the separate heights,
the various chief points of Rome, all now lay as in a
gloomy, melancholy picture under the dark heavens ;
but a border of half-luminous light showed itself in the
western horizon, and seemed to promise a brighter
morrow. Crowds of priests, in three-cornered hats,
were, with the exception of myself, the only wanderers
on Monte Pincio, whence they viewed the festivities in
the square, in which they were unable to participate.
Again at home in the twilight. Here I found my
young friend half beside herself with the pleasures and
small adventures of the afternoon, and longing only
for the morrow, when she might again drive out and
skirmish with flowers and comfits on the Corso; I then
shall also take part in the promenade. To-morrow is

128 CARNIVAL SKIRMISHING.
a great masquerade day ; may the sun only shine a
little on the sport, "for the sake of the poor!" It is a
good thing that people cannot buy good weather; they
would then run the risk of ruining themselves, out of
pure sympathy.
Friday. — Never, surely, has the Roman Carnival had
greater trials to go through ! Yesterday morning was
tolerably fine ; there was a little sunshine at noon,
which brightened the souls of' thousands of human
beings, who, like Jenny and myself, kept continually
directing their glances to the sky; but at half-past
two, just when the gay scene commenced, earlier than
usual, the sky darkened with a desperately determined
aspect, as if it would continue so the whole day, and
pouring rain began ; but the spirit of the Carnival had
now taken possession of the inhabitants of Rome.
Spite of the drenching rain, the Corso was crowded
with all kinds of costumes and masks in carriages and
on foot ; and windows, and balconies, and roofs were
thronged with dominoes and fantastic costumes ; bou
quets of flowers and comfits showered down through
the air. It became a habit of life with us. Jenny
and I took part in it whilst we drove with Nordenfalks ;
we had between us, in the carriage, a basket with bou
quets and comfits, which was obliged to be refilled
more than once. Two rows of carriages drove in close
file along the Corso ; they assaulted each other inces
santly ; besides which, they threw their missiles up to
the windows and balconies, and received others in
return. Sometimes a masquerading gentleman designs
to present you with an extremely beautiful bouquet,
but if you do not take great care it is quickly snatched
away by some lad, who jumps upon the step or wheel
of the carriage. Jenny lost, in this way, a lovely
bouquet of camellias yesterday, and I one to-day.

ROMAN PEASANT WOMEN. 129
Sometimes the procession of carriages is stopped by
the crush, and woe then to the carriage or the ladies
who happen to be stopped under a great balcony, for
they are then overwhelmed by such a shower of chalk
and powder comfits, which rain down upon them like
hail, that the dominoes and outer attire are, this
weather, quite spoiled. This happened to us yesterday.
One is fortunate if one can keep one's eyes uninjured ;
but a great many of the uneducated class amuse them
selves by throwing white powder into people's faces,
and if this gets into the eyes, it sometimes occasions
long suffering ; sometimes one receives a great blow on
the head from an immense bouquet, or a great piece of
confectionary, as hard as a stone ; but any one who
enters into the sport must tolerate it — and, happen what
may, people are only the more excited and filled by the
spirit of the time. In this way we drove up and down
the Corso, between the Piazza di Venezia and del
Popolo, for two hours. That which interested me
most was to see the handsome Roman women in their
holiday costume, standing in open loges in the lower
story of the houses ; they receive, with stoical resigna
tion, the showers of comfits and bouquets which are
incessantly aimed at their gold-adorned heads. Women
of the peasant class, dressed as if for a wedding fes
tival, with bare heads, adorned with red ribbon and
grand ornaments, were also the principal figures in
many of the carriages. Amongst the carriages were
many which resembled the old Roman chariots, half-a-
dozen persons or more standing in them, in fantastic
costumes, sometimes very handsome. One carriage
was filled with Neapolitan fishermen in holiday dresses.
Very few of the noble families of Rome, it was said,
took part this year in the carriage parade. The streets
swarmed with harlequins, punchinelloes, and jesters, who
VOL. II,. K

130 FAST AND FURIOUS FUN.
leaped about, talking to people in the carriages and on
foot, inviting to drink, pretending themselves to be
intoxicated, and spilling the beer or water on the right
hand and left ; crowds of castanet-players and dancers,
in every variety of laughable, grotesque, and most fre
quently tatterdemalion costume, beating drums, and so
on, making a horrible din. Sometimes, in the midst of
all this wild confusion, a kind of French courtier would
come mincing along, in old-fashioned costume, leading
a lady, also in antique attire, and gazing on the right
hand and the left, through an immense opera-glass,
making, in the meantime, the most polite bows ; how
ever much he might be pushed about or be be-pow-
dered, mattered not, he only gazed through his opera-
glass and bowed all the more, and never lost his self-
possession. In the midst of all this whirl and confusion
comes a brilliant procession — it is the governor of the
city and the Roman senate, driving in a great number
of splendid carriages, with splendid horses and servants ;
gold and velvet shine out, and liveries which appear to
be coloured with fire. The brilliant cortege advances
with great dignity through the many-coloured mass
of the Corso, up to the Capitol.
Towards dark the life in the street became ever more
tumultuous and wild. It still rained, and now very
heavily ; but people forgot the rain and everything else
excepting that they had promised to amuse themselves
with as little restraint as possible. But the life of the
streets and the boys predominated more and more.
Dirty bouquets were thrown into the carriages, and
there was need for people to take great care of them
selves. We began to long for home ; even Jenny had
enjoyed enough of Carnival pleasure ; but the carriages
would not leave the scene of strife, and they were now
so numerous that it was impossible to avoid frequent

NIGHj. ccJ^NE IN THE STREETS. 131
stoppages. At length was heard the double firing, the
signal that the carriages must leave the place, and all
now hastily dispersed. The troop of cavalry entered at
a heavy trot and cleared the street, and the next moment
fire from the race-horses' feet was seen in the twilight.
The prize run for this evening was a banner worth fifty
scudi, and which was won by a horse belonging to the
Borghese family.
Again at home we merrily talked over the events of the
day, at our tea-table, with some of our countrymen, and
then went to the Theatre Capronica, to see a folks-
theatre and folk-life there. But I do not advise any
body else to do so, for it is neither amusing nor
instructive, unless it be to teach how people ought not
to play and ought not to sing. The grand Roman
women in their splendid popular costume were the only
beautiful objects to look at. It was, however, amusing
to see the spectacle in the streets on our ^ay home.
In one rather narrow by-street a group of figures in
costume were dancing the saltarello, to the sound of the
tambourine, with such enthusiasm as not to be dis
turbed by the carriages that roiled past, nor even by
one that went right through the dancing group. One
of the dancers fell by this means, and let go his tam
bourine, but the next moment he was up again on his
feet, dancing away, light and graceful, so that it was a
delight to behold. When we reached the Corso we
heard a lovely, rather melancholy Neapolitan melody,
played upon the mandolin, and along the muddy
trottoir came dancing two silver-glittering figures, light
as a couple of children of the air ; after them followed
a mandolin-player, and some ladies and gentlemen. Light-
footed, and apparently light-hearted, theyoungpair sprang
forward, with inimitable grace, along the trottoir, keep
ing time to the music, and vanished as if into the dark
K2

132 FINE WEATHER AT LAST.
night, whilst the light of the street-lamps here and
there lit up their shimmering forms. The night air
was damp and raw ; a few pale stars sought in vain to
find their way through the clouds. The public-houses
on our way were lighted up and crowded with people,
and far into the night we could hear the tones of the
mandolin-player wandering by.
Wednesday, February Xlth. — I will now briefly
relate the after-progress of the Carnival. The Friday
of the past week was held as a quiet day, and well it
was so, for it rained incessantly. Two young English
men in the story below us amused themselves the
whole day by throwing great shovelfuls of chalk
comfits upon every umbrella which came under their
balcony. They blistered their hands very much with
doing so, and really what pleasure they could find in it
I cannot tell.
Saturday was, at length, a fine, cloudless day, and
every face in Rome seemed to clear up with it. The
Via Condotti and San Carlo shone like a regular
flower-market. Numbers of carriages were on the
Corso — elegant costumes and elegant little bon-bons —
great politeness between gentlemen and ladies, but
less of life and fewer masks than on Thursday, when it
was a general masquerade-day, and the people, as it
were, were out of all bounds.
Sunday was also a glorious, sunshiny day. The
Carnival rested itself; no mas"ks were to be seen ; but
half of Rome drove in procession up to Monte Pincio
and circled round its green, peaceful grounds, where
the fountains played, the roses shone out and diffused
their fragrance. Jenny and I wandered along the
banks of the Tiber, beyond the Porta del Popolo, one
of the most agreeable promenades which T have yet
discovered near Rome ; for one can there be as solitary

THE MODELS BALL. 133
as in the country, walk down by the river, and along
the other side amongst gardens, enjoying the while as
grand and extensive views as if there were no city
near. This road is called "Poussin's Promenade," be
cause the great painter used to go along it from Rome
to his villa at Ponte Molle. One sees here an horizon
such as one often finds in Poussin's pictures. After
wards we went up Monte Pincio, and saw the great
world sweep round, and the sun go down.
In the evening I went with some of our countrymen
to the ball which is at this time given annually to the
models in Rome. A large room with a dark brick
floor and a number of cigar-smoking gentlemen did not
promise much for the ball. In the middle of the room,
however, an open space is left where men and women
in the Italian national costume dance their national
dances. The men distinguish themselves advan
tageously by their appearance, costume, and dancing.
Some of them would have made a very good figure in
the ballet of any theatre whatever. The women were less
agreeable, except, however, the remarkably handsome
model Alessandra. But her beauty was withered at
twenty, and her dancing was rather too much studied.
A very young girl, whose countenance beamed with
soul, danced with life and enthusiasm. It was lovely
to see her dancing with her father, the model Angelino,
a handsome man of thirty, and the principal cavalier of
the ball. In the meantime the dancers went round and
regaled the strangers with red wine. Everything pro
ceeded in an orderly, simple, cheerful, and respectable
manner. The dances which they danced were the
Salterello, the Ballerina, and the Sospiro. The Salter-
ello is a kind of Tantarella (which is pre-eminently a
Neapolitan dance), and, as it were, a continued irnpro-

134 MOCCOLI-DAY.
visation, in which the dancers retreat and advance
according to fancy, and which is danced after the
heart's pleasure and inspiration. It seems to me to be
the ideal of all dancing when it becomes the expression
of joy and the delight of life. I was never tired of
following the soft and bold movements of the dancers
as they now approached and now withdrew from each
other, with gestures expressive, now of playful defiance,
now of cordiality and a joyful abandon. There is
foaming champagne in this dance.
La Ballerina is a kind of cotillon, but has in it, with
the Italians, an element of mimicry and of improvisa
tion, which is not to be found in the weak and tame
cotillon of our drawing-rooms. B Sospiro struck me
as the most original of the dances. In it men and
women alternately sigh for each other, and in it is re
presented a whole series of love-episodes, as Angelino
explained them to me.
But to return to the Carnival, of which the models'
ball is an offspring.
Monday came, and with it a cloudy sky and cloudy
countenances ; and in the afternoon rain and storm
worse than on the preceding days ! The Carnival now
lost its spirit. Only a few carriages and fewer pedes
trians on the Corso, the inhabitants of which threw
their bouquets into the mud, and the street-boys did
not think it worth while to pick them up. It is very
annoying ! and the morrow is the last day of the Carni?
val — the great day, the moccoli-day — for the Carnival
will then die, and people will then celebrate its funeral
according to the Catholic custom of lighting candles
for the dead. It is said to be a grand spectacle, but
will be a dismal one if the weather do not change.
Yes, it did change ; the moccoli-day, Shrove Tues
day, brought with it the brightest sun, and an atmo-

AS MERRY AS MAY BE. 135
sphere so pure and so fresh, that all anxiety and doubt
on account of the day were over, and people thought
about nothing but how to enjoy themselves with all
their might. A fresh supply of flowers, and comfits,
and new costumes was provided. All the ladies
dressed themselves in their best ; everybody looked
cheerful and handsome, even the ill-favoured. Already
at half-past two in the afternoon every balcony, and
window, and loge on the Corso was beaming with
happy faces and splendid toilettes. Trains of maskers
danced along the street to the music of the tambourine,
crinolines of untold dimensions, huge noses, hats, and
every kind of eccentricity were to be seen. Carriages
drove along filled with beautiful costumes, both with and
without masks : here you saw classical, there comic
figures. Amongst the most ornamental even now
must be mentioned the Roman peasant-girls, or women,
in their holiday costume. Numbers of them would sit
aloft on the thrown-back heads of the carriages, and
thus receive the shower of bouquets and comfits.
It is an immense throng and whirl, but everybody in
the very best humour. One is a good friend, sister, or
brother to the whole world. One exchanges nods and
smiles, flowers, and little gifts, with people whom one
has never seen before, and probably shall never see
again ; one accepts the liking which the moment in
spires, and is influenced by; one makes a number
of new acquaintance, with whom one is merry in
the passing drive, and then forgets ; greets one's old
acquaintance, and showers down one's bon-bons and
flowers more zealously than ever. Thus rushes on the
Carnival uninterruptedly till dark, when, as usual, the
military clear the street for the horse-race. This eve
ning a greater number of horses ran than hitherto, and
they were greeted with a terrific shout and jubilation.

136 I TOO AM MOCCOLI-MAD !
Scarcely is this over, when again the Corso is filled
with carriages ; the throng of people becomes ever
greater, and soon. one sees through the increasing dark
ness here and there a candle lighted. They are extin
guished, but soon relighted ; the number still more in
creases ; they shine out from every carriage and point
of the street, from every balcony and window, the
whole length of the Corso, which is soon transformed
into a billowy stream of flame, continually in move
ment ; continually glimmering and blazing ; and above
the whole heaving stream of fire sounds an infi
nite buzz and murmur of merry voices and out
cries. The sport which is now carried on consists in every
body endeavouring to extinguish his neighbour's candle,
which is carefully kept burning, or immediately lighted
again. You extinguish them by blowing them out, or
with your hands, or your handkerchief, or with anything
you can. White-clad Punchinelloes leap upon the car
riages and extinguish their lights, often violently
enough, and shout triumphantly, "senza moccoli! senza
moccoli ! "
But the extinguished moccoli — larger or less wax-
tapers in bundles — are relighted immediately, and the
stream of flame heaves and gleams as before. Thus,
for a few hours, after which it ceases by degrees,
partly because people are tired of the sport, and partly
for want of candles. On our balcony in San Carlo —
where we found ourselves in the same agreeable com
pany as hitherto — the moccoli-fight was carried on
vigorously and in good earnest, yet very politely.
Finally, I found myself, to my own amazement, with a
moccoli bunch in one hand, and in the other a torch
which I myself extinguished by swinging it round in
the air.

CARNIVAL RESULTS. 137
At eight o'clock all was still and dark. The Carni
val was dead and buried, but with great honour, and
people congratulated themselves and each other on its
honourable termination. My young friend, who had
celebrated her Carnival with all honour and glory, was
in no small degree contented with it and her sheaf
of bouquets and memories.
I have been told that the memories of the Carnival
become, not unfrequently, of serious import to the
whole after-life ; and many a little intrigue which has
then its beginning is carried on afterwards, and finds
its end in a wedding. The so-called carnival-acquain-
ance begins generally by a gentleman seeing a lady in
a balcony or at a window, who pleases him. He throws
bouquets up to her. If she responds he throws up
others ; remains steadfastly in his place, sends up to her
beautiful flowers and bon-bons, follows his elect at a
respectful distance on her way home ; ventures upon a
salutation, and afterwards upon a letter; and then —
but I do not know anything more about the affair, ex
cept that sometimes it ends with a wedding, sometimes
also by the lady proudly sending back the lover's letter.
It may probably have happened that she, like Jenny,
lost all romantic illusions when she saw Tinconnu take — a
pinch of snuff!
The moccoli-day did not end for us in Mrs. Grant's
elegant drawing-room, but in an Osteria near the Pa
lazzo Borghese, where we this evening were to witness
a scene of popular life. It was gay, harmless, and pic
turesque, the dances and the costumes similar to those
at the models' ball, but less beautiful. The fumes of
tobacco and the crowd compelled us soon to leave the
place, and we are now paying the penalty of our Car
nival pleasure in a severe attack of influenza. But
two-thirds of the inhabitants of Rome are in the same

138 THE PAPAL BILL OF FARE.
condition — not a very agreeable result of the Car
nival. To-day — Ash Wednesday — the official newspaper
Giornale di Roma, the only large newspaper published,
in Rome, contains a solemn proclamation, which com
mences with a high-flown glorification of the happiness
of belonging to the only true and saving Church, which
is alone infallible and immovable. After this, a great
deal is said about the solicitude of his holiness the Pope
for his flock, particularly that of Rome, and that this
solicitude has induced him to appoint this fast-day as a
special jubilee, which shall be celebrated with preaching
in all churches, and by an indulgenza plenaria* to all
such as will conform to certain conditions, which will
be further made known in the churches. This pom
pous proclamation concludes with a detailed bill of
fare as to what people may, or may not, eat during the
fast. All intermixtures of flesh meat and fish in una
medissima commestione are strictly forbidden. But broth
made from meat may at the same time be given, with
fish in cases where strengthening food is required.
On certain days it is permitted to take eggs, as well as
particular parts of pork, even for picciola refezione at
mid-day. But restaurateurs and confectioners are threa
tened with severe punishment if, without permission,
they should, on particular days in the week, serve out
portions of egg and milk. It is in the meantime espe
cially permitted to all of the inhabitants of Rome, except
on certain days in the week, to eat meat during Lent,
as well as strutto ed unto per condimento. The Cardinal-
vicar who drew up this very long bill of fare did not,
probably, bear in mind the words of Paul, that nothing
is to be rejected which is received with thanksgiving and
* That is to say, forgiveness of all sins hitherto committed. —
Author's note.

CARDINAL ANTONELLI. 139
prayer — and also the beautiful words of St. Augustine :
" Love God, and do whatever you like."
February 20th. — Soiree at the Grants', very elegant
and amusing. The Grants belong to the few foreigners
in Rome who see at their house also the Roman so
ciety. This was a great reception, and amongst the
guests of various nations were several picturesque
figures. Foremost on this account, amongst the gentle
men, was Cardinal Antonelli, and also a youngerandvery
handsome Monsignore. Antonelli does not appear to be
aboveforty — he has a strongly marked countenance, of the
true Italian character, handsome, dark eyes, with a pe
netrative glance, gloomy or bright according to the
sentiment which they express, dangerous eyes, it seems
to me, they would be to those on which their glance
was directed in love. The countenance is pale, the fea
tures regular, even handsome, all except the mouth,
which is large, with large teeth, and devoid of agreeable
sentiment when speaking. In short, the countenance
has a commanding expression. An abundance of dark
brown hair waves from under the red cap, and falls in
waving curls upon the pale cheeks. The whole figure
is picturesque, artistic in effect, to which also the oos-
tume, the red cardinal stockings, the large silver
buckles, the short silk cloak, and the red cap, contribute
in no small degree. Antonelli has in his manner all
the self-possession and ease of a perfect man of the
world. With ladies, his manners are elegant and insinu
ating. I had a short conversation with him, in which, I
do not remember from what cause, we came to speak of
experience. Antonelli said that it was a great advan
tage. I thought that this advantage had not a parti
cularly good reputation, and I wanted just to inquire
in what sense the Cardinal regarded it as good — but we
were interrupted by the music, and I wait with my

140 BEAUTIFUL MUSIC.
question till another time. The Grants, who like Anto
nelli greatly, will take me to see his valuable collection
of minerals, which he has pleasure in showing to for
eigners. A far more valuable collection, namely of
jewelled rings, is shown only to few — to the select of
his intimate friends.
Amongst duchesses, countesses, ladies, and so on,
were some very expensive and beautiful dresses, but
which one might fear would fall off their wearers'
shoulders. Not a beautiful style this. Still there were
some very original but becoming costumes, and two
young girls were very pretty. Prettiest of all was our
charming hostess. We had music at the piano. A young
Italian maestro sang like " a thousand devils," to use the
expression of Sergei — another sang languishing ballads,
but without truth or nature. Two English ladies, a
mother and daughter, sang beautifully, some of Thomas
Moore's sentimental songs; and, lastly, ourhostess, who is
thoroughly musical, a German folks-song, which she
sang excellently, with all its freshness and inspiration.
The very air of the forest seemed for a "moment to be
wafted through the room. Monsignore L  o was en
chanted by the music, and, laying his hand on his breast,
he gave himself up to its inspiration. He told me a
good deal about Calabria, of which he is a native, and
also various things connected with the religious orders
and brotherhoods in Rome, which were interesting to
me.

141

THIRTEENTH STATION.
Trinita di Monte — Conversion — Audience with the Pope — A little
about the Pope and St. Peter — The Grand Duchess Helena —
Four Cardinals — Conversion of a Nun — Lent Sermons — The
Carmelite Monk — Pere Marie Louis — The Drive to Frascati
and Tivoli — The Holy Week — An Abjuration — Festival and
Danger — Retraite in Sacre Cceur — Conversion-fight, in Evil
and in Good — Still an Abjuration — Removal to the Capitol —
New Life — Little Discoveries and Experiences — The Catholic
Church during, the month of May — My Resumd — Departure
from Rome.
Rome, February 25th. — Adjoining the Piazza di Spagna
stands upon its lofty wooded terrace the stately church,
Trinita di Monte. Close to the church is a large con
ventual building, where the nuns of the order Sacre
Cceur have an educational institute for girls. Grand
equipages with liveried servants are often drawn up at
its gate, shewing that these girls belong to noble or
wealthy Italian or foreign families. In the evenings, at
ilvespro, people go thereto hear the nuns sing from the
orgafe-gallery. It sounds like the singing of angels.
One sees in the quire troops of young scholars, mov
ing with slow and measured steps, with their long white

142 THE CONVENT OF SACRE COEUR.
veils, like a flock of spirits. One day Mine, de M.
took me with her to pay a visit in the convent. We
were received by a tall, handsome nun, still young,
with a gay vivacious countenance and fluent tongue.
She spoke French, and inquired if I were a Catholic I "
" No," I replied.
" Not yet," added my countrywoman, gently.
"Indeed! But you must be!" exclaimed the lively
nun ; " you must go into retraite here with us, and
seriously think about it ! "
I smiled and shook my head.
We went through such parts of the convent as are
open to strangers — its beautiful garden and church.
The nun talked a great deal, and interested me by her
vivacity and frankness. During the conversation it
was mentioned that two young sisters, English girls, of
the Protestant Church, who had come, some months
since, to the school of the convent, for the perfecting of
their education, as proud, staunch Protestants, had been
converted to the Catholic Church by means of Sister
 (the tall nun), and would, in a short time, make
public their change of faith ; although, at the earnest
prayer of their parents, who were at a distance, they
now received the instruction of the English Protestant
preacher in Rome, who did everything in his power to
nullify the Catholic influence. Sister  laughed
about it. She was certain how it would terminate.
We saw, in one of the parlours, a tall, dark man, dressed
in black, and a pretty young girl, sitting together,
engaged in earnest conversation. This was the Pro
testant teacher and the young lady with the Catholic
tendencies. Mme.  (the tall nun) frequently reverted to the
questions of ecclesiastical contention, for she evidently
belonged to the church-militant. I was thus compelled

I AM SUMMONED TO THE VATICAN. 143
again to hear that I could not be regarded as belonging
to the Christian Church.
I said again, " I will ask the Pope ! — I am certain that
he is more tolerant than you ! "
Mme.  's last words to me were, " Come to us.
Go into retraite here, and you will see that you will
come to think differently on many subjects ! "
" It will give me a real pleasure to talk with you on
some subjects, if you will allow it," I replied ; " and as
for my going into retraite, as you propose — I will think
about it. But as regards my conversion, you will not
succeed." " So also thought the young English girls ! " said she,
laughing. We parted on the best terms. Mme. de M. told me
that Mme.  was celebrated for her talent in con
verting Protestants. She had converted to the
Catholic Church more than sixty persons, partly in
France, partly in Rome.
I had now so often said, "I will ask the Pope!" that
I myself became rather curious as to what his answer
would be, and I resolved to make my joke earnest. I
had always regarded Pio Nono as an unusually liberal
Catholic ; and his amiable appearance, as well as his
liberal sympathies, which he avowed at the time of his
ascending the pontifical throne, had won my heart.
For these and other reasons, I was glad to have an
/opportunity of a nearer view of Pio Nono.
I preferred my request for an audience through our
kind and ever benevolent and polite Scandinavian
consul, Cavaliere Bravo. And two days afterwards, early
in the morning, I received a command to go that same
day to the Vatican. The printed letter by which this
was communicated contained also directions as to how
I was to be dressed — namely, in black silk with a veil.

144 MONSIGNORE DE MERODE.
At four o'clock, accordingly, last Sunday afternoon,
I was in the saloons of the Vatican, to which I was
introduced by a young page in a scarlet-silk dress. In
a spacious room, ornamented by two large pictures,
several ladies and some gentlemen were seated, waiting
for their summons, they also having requested
audiences. The Pope on Sunday afternoons gives
audience, especially to ladies, who are allowed, however,
to be accompained by their husbands or sons. We
waited about an hour. I contemplated the two large
pictures which occupied two whole walls of the
apartment. They were paintings of a middling quality,
representing the revelation of TImmacolata Virgine to
Pio Nono, and of his solemn announcement of this
dogma in the church of St. Peter's.
The persons waiting in the room were called in to
the Pope in the order in which they had arrived.
They went in by twos or threes at a time. I was
summoned to enter alone, as I had come.
Before entering the Pope's room I had to wait yet a
little while in a well-lighted corridor, where two
cardinals politely took charge of me. The eldest, still
young, a handsome, fair, very tall gentleman, with
quite a worldly appearance under the ecclesiastic cloak
and cap (Monsignore de Merode), talked about my
writings, with which I am sure that he was only
acquainted from a critical notice of them which has
lately appeared in a French paper, the Constitutionnel.
He supposed that I was " a Catholic ? "
1 replied in the negative.
" Oh ! but you must become one. You must be
converted ; you must not stop half-way ! A lady such
as you" — and so on.
He was interrupted by the summons to the Pope
I entered, attended by Monsignore de Merode, who

AUDIENCE WITH THE POPE. 145
knelt at the door and left me alone with "His Holiness."
I saw at the farther end of an oblong, light, and very
simply furnished room, a man of a stout but handsome
figure, standing at a writing-table, dressed in a long,
white garment, with scarlet lapels and cap. I made
one low curtsey at the door, another in the middle of
the room, in obedience to the Pope's sign to me to
advance, and yet a third as I approached him and took
my stand on the same little carpet with him, which I
did in accordance with his friendly indication of his
will. (For such persons as do not kneel to the Pope
are required by the ceremonial to make three curtseys
or bows).
The portraits of the Pope are in general like him ;
but his full, short and broad countenance has, when
seen more nearly, less expression of kindness, and
considerably more of self-will and temper, than the
portraits exhibit. The glance of the blue eye is lively
but not profound, and is deficient in earnestness. The
complexion and physique generally indicate the best of
health, a good appetite — and a good cook.
The Pope cast his eye on a written paper which he
held in his hand ; and having enquired about my coun
try and place of residence, added, " You have written
somewhat f "
Myself. — Yes, your Holiness ; novels of domestic life,
more properly descriptions of life, but in the form of
novels." The Pope. — But you are a Catholic ?
Myself. — No, your Holiness, not a Roman Catholic.
The Pope. — Then you must become one. There is
no completeness or consequence out of the Catholic
Church. Myself. — Permit me, your Holiness, to ask a
question ?
VOL. II. L

1 46 THE POPE AND I AGREE.
The Pope. — Yes ; ask it !
Myself. — I love with my whole heart our Lord and
master, Jesus Christ. I believe in His divinity ; in His
redeeming efficacy for me and the whole world ; I will
alone obey and serve Him. Will your Holiness not
acknowledge me as a Christian?
Ihe Pope. — For a Christian ! Most certainly !
But 
Myself. — And as a member of the Church of Christ ?
The Pope. — Ye — s, in a certain sense ; but — but,
then, people must acknowledge as true everything
which this Church says and enjoins. You ought not,
in the meantime, to believe that the Pope sends to hell
all who do not acknowledge the infallibility of the
Catholic Church. No, I believe that many persons of
other creeds may be saved by living according to the
truth which they acknowledge. I believe so, most
certainly. Myself. — It delights me infinitely to hear this from
your Holiness. Because I have cherished the hope of
finding in your Holiness a more righteous judge as
regards these questions than in many other Catholics,
who say, "You are not a Christian; you cannot be
saved, if you do not, in all respects, believe as we and
our Church do."
The Pope. — In this they are wrong. But you see,
my daughter, people should be able to give an account
of their Christian belief — not believe alone in generals,
but believe in the separate parts of a doctrine. It is
already something to believe in the second person of
the Godhead, and in His incarnation; but it is
necessary also to believe in the institution which He
founded on earth, otherwise there can be no reality, no
faith in Him. And people must believe in the Pope.
The Pope is Christ's representative on earth. In

THE POPE AND I AGREE AND DISAGREE. 147
Sweden people do not believe on Christ and His
Church. In Sweden the extremest intolerance exists
towards those who think differently to themselves.
The king there has twice endeavoured to introduce
religious freedom, but — they would not have it !
Myself. — I know it, your Holiness ; but Sweden in
former times suffered from Catholics in the country,
and old laws still remain unrepealed in consequence.
But it will not long be so, I hope. My countrymen
will learn to have confidence, in the power of truth and
of Christianity.
The Pope. — Your reigning Queen is Catholic.
Myself. — Yes, your Holiness, and the noblest of
women, an example to her sex, an ornament to the
throne !
The Pope. — All Christian princes and people ought
to believe on the Pope and obey him. Their not doing
so arises from pure pride and a worldly mind. Hence
state-churches have arisen. The Emperor of Russia
will not acknowledge the Pope, because he wishes to be
Pope himself. Queen Victoria will not acknowledge
the Pope, because she herself will be Popess; and so it
is in every country where there is a state-church.
Belief in the Pope, as the head of the Christian Church,
is the only rational and consequent thing ; it is that
alone which leads to unity and clearness. The Church
is an organization — a representative monarchy, with its
supreme head — a spiritual state. If in a state people
will not obey the supreme head, then there can be
neither clearness nor order — everything becomes
confusion. Myself. — We believe in Jesus Christ, and acknow
ledge Him alone as head of the Christian Church.
The Pope. — But Jesus Christ is in heaven, and must
have a representative on earth ; and this he appointed,
L2

148 I CANNOT AGREE WITH THE POPE.
in the first instance, in the person of the Apostle Peter,
by the words  you understand Latin ?
Myself. — Pochissimo, your Holiness. I have begun
to learn it lately.
The Pope. — Very good, then you will understand the
words, " Tu es Petrus, et super hanc petram mdificabo
ecclesiam meam, et portm inferni non prwvalebunt adversus
earn. Et tibi dabo claves coslorum." This dignity and
this power descended from Peter to every Pope who
has succeeded him, from the very earliest period of the
Church down to the unworthy individual who now
stands before you. This is the belief and the doctrine
of the Church.
Myself. — We in our Church explain these words of
our Saviour differently. We consider that by Peter
He intended the Rock-man, and that the acknowledg
ment which Peter made, " Thou art Christ, the son of
the living God ! " was the rock upon which Christ
would build His Church, against which the gates of
hell should not prevail. We believe that Christ left
the keys to all His apostles, as well as to Peter, with
power to bind and to release, and that every earnest
Christian, whether it be the Pope in Rome, or a poor
fisherman on our own coasts, has part in this Church of
the Rock, and in its privileges.
The Pope.— But you have not either confession or
absolution ; you do not believe in the mass, nor in the
seven sacraments — not upon those things nor ordinances
which the Church of Christ appoints. He who
believes the one must believe in all. There is but one
God in heaven, and — but one Church on earth, in which
He lives by His representative, and by regulations
which he has appointed. This you must understand,
and, in order to become a perfect Christian, not do it
by halves — make an open confession thereof.

THE POPE AND 1 QUITE AGREE. 149
Myself. — Loving the Lord Christ, and living
according to His commandments, are, according to our
belief, the essentials of the Christian !
Ihe Pope. — Very good. I will tell you something.
Pray ! pray for light from the Lord, for grace to
acknowledge the truth ; because this is the only means
of attaining to it. Controversy will do no good. In
controversy is pride and self-love. People in contro
versy make a parade of their knowledge, of their
acuteness,' and, after all, everyone continues to hold his
own views. Prayer alone gives light and strength for
the acquirement of truth and of grace. Pray every day;
every night before you go to rest, and I hope that grace
and light may be given to you. For God wishes that
we should humble ourselves, and He gives his grace to
the humble. And now, God bless and keep you, for
time and eternity !
This pure priestly and fatherly admonition was so
beautifully and fervently expressed, that it went to my
heart — and humbly and with my heart I pressed the
hand paternally extended towards me. That it was the
hand of the Pope did not embarrass me in the slightest
degree ; for he was to me really at this moment the
representative of the Teacher who in life and doctrine
preached humility, not before men but before God, and
taught mankind to pray to Him. The Pope's words
were entirely true and evangelical. I thanked him
from my entire heart, and departed more satisfied with
him than myself. I had stood before him in my Pro
testant pride; he had listened with patience, replied
with kindness, and finally exhorted me, not with Papal
arrogance, but as a true, gospel teacher. I parted from
him with more humility of spirit than I had come.
The Pope conversed with me in French, with
facility and accuracy. His manner of speaking is lively

150 MONSIGNORE DE MERODE HAS HOPES OF ME.
and natural, as one who allows himself to converse
without restraint.
I was received in the outer apartment, or corridor,
a long room with many windows, by Monsignore
de Merode.
" You have had a long conversation with the Pope,"
observed he.
Myself. — His Holiness has had the goodness to
answer some of my questions.
Mons. de M. — You are remaining in Rome? — you
ought to be always here. You must be converted and
become Catholic ; it cannot be otherwise : a person like
you ought not to die a heretic.
Myself. — But I am not a heretic — I am a Catholic
Christian !
Mons. de M. — But^- not a Roman Catholic !
Myself. — No ; I consider myself more Catholic than
if I were so; I acknowledge, as a Christian, every
one who has part in the life of Christ ; and I do not
ask whether he be called Catholic or Protestant ; 1
reverence, as the disciple of Christ, every one who
becomes great in this-discipleship — St. Vincent de Paul,
St. Theresa, Catherine of Sienna, the Pope himself, as
well as the men and women who are the ornament of
the Protestant Church ; I see them all as members of
the Church universal, to which I also, through the
grace of God, belong. You see, then, Monsignore,
that I am more Catholic than you !
To this tirade, which I spoke standing, or passing
through the doorway, Monsignore de Merode did not
seem exactly to know what he should reply ; but he
did not look quite satisfied, and said finally —
" I see, at least, that you are in the right way to
become Catholic, and I hope that you will become
more and more so, and actually so.

ST. PETERS A PONTIFICAL TEMPLE. 151
Myself. — I, too, hope the same.
Mons. de M.— Aha !  Really ?
Myself. — Yes ; but we do not understand the thing
in the same way. The Pope is less exclusive on this
question than you other Catholics.
Mons. de M. — How ! We other Catholics ! And in
Sweden? How liberal are people there? There, in
the first place, people are very exclusive, very in
tolerant. Myself. — -People would there be more" liberal, Mon
signore, if the Catholics were less exclusive.
Mons. de M. — I hope that Sweden will one day be
come exclusive, in the Catholic sense.
" That I — do not hope," replied I, smiling, as I
made a movement to take my leave.
" Can I be of service to you in any way ? " inquired
the polite Cardinal ; " may I show you some pictures of
Overbeck's on subjects for La Via Crucis ?"
And the obliging Monsignore conducted me into one
of the ante-rooms, where these paintings were ; he was
soon, however, summoned again to the Pope, to con
duct to the presence three ladies with a load of rosaries,
crosses, and small pictures of saints, which were to be
blessed by the Pope.
I then went into St. Peter's Church, which was at
this time illumined in the most exquisite manner by the
setting sun, the light of which streamed in through the
fire-tinted windows of the chancel. I met the German
Count Bremer, who agreed with me that this church is
a Pontifical rather than a Christian temple, because
throughout the whole place that which is principally
reflected there is the power and the glory of the Pope
dom and the Popes. The magnificent cupola itself re
sembles an immense Papal tiara, arched above the
tomb of St. Peter.

152 QUEEN CHRISTINA OF SWEDEN.
This cupola is the last great work of Michael Angelo,
and is a beautiful monument, not alone of his genius,
but also of his elevated character of mind. He under
took the direction of this work in his old age, and at
the earnest desire of Pope Leo X. ; he executed it
under much opposition, and amidst the enmity of
envious artists, and under many kinds of difficulties
and troubles, as is shown by his private letters. He
wished, by this cupola, as he says, " to place a Pantheon
on the top of St. Peter's," to make the greatest heathen
temple of Rome (the Pantheon d'Agrippa) an orna
ment for the Christian Church ; he wished by doing
this, "to erect a temple, which should at a great
distance announce to strangers and pilgrims that
they approached Rome, the residence of the Christian
religion !"
The Pope offered him one hundred ducats a month
as director of this gigantic work, but Michael Angelo
rejected the offered reward, and wished for nothing
besides " the testimony of his own heart, that he
laboured alone for the glory of the Highest."
Amongst the secular monuments in the side aisle is
to the right of the entrance-gate, and not far from it,
that of the Swedish Queen Christina, a monument of
little beauty, for a remarkable, but not beautiful cha
racter. On the top is a medallion profile in bronze, and
below a bas-relief in white marble, representing her
abjuration of the faith of her great father and her con
version to the Catholic Church.
At no great distance, on the same side, stands a
monument of another female celebrity — a beautiful
contrast to the last mentioned — the monument of the
Countess Matilda, " the great Matilda," the daughterly
friend of Gregory VII., who, by the gift of her here
ditary lands, founded the temporal power of the states

THE COUNTESS MATILDA AND GREGORY VII. 153
of the Church. The monument, by Bernini, represents
her as a young woman, amiable and lovely as a god
dess of youth, who embraces with one arm, protectingly,
the Papal tiara and the Papal keys, whilst with the
other she raises a drawn sword. This monument, in
all its parts, is of a cheerful, harmonious beauty ; and
the memory which it calls forth belongs also to the
most lovely and the most peculiar in the history of the
world ; for no one can think of this Matilda without,
at the same time, thinking of Gregory VII., the head
and hero of the Popedom, the most arbitrary, the most
inflexible, and — perhaps, in moral points and will, the
most elevated of all the Popes after Gregory the Great.
I confess that nothing is to me a stronger proof of his
moral greatness than the devoted attachment with
which this man, unattractive in countenance and of an
insignificant figure, was able to inspire a young and
beautiful woman, richly endowed with the wealth of this
world and the gifts of mind, the heiress of the most
beautiful lands of Italy. For his sake she rejected all
offers of marriage ; for his sake she became a heroine,
drew the sword, headed more than one battle, and gave
the signal for the fight ; she stood by his side, gentle
and beseeching, when the Papal severity went too far
in the desire to bend and humiliate the refractory;
thus she prayed for the Emperor Henry IV., when
Gregory compelled him to do penance, bare-footed,
and in his shirt, outside the church door, in the winter
season ; by his side she stood consoling and strengthen
ing when Gregory was assailed by the spirit of ven
geance which his firm but inflexible severity had called
forth. She sacrificed to his idea, that of the outward
dominion and sovereignty of the Church, the power
and the lands which she had inherited and held with
honour. The arbitrary ruler made herself voluntarily

154 REVIEW OF MY CONVERSATION WITH THE POPE.
a servant to the ecclesiastical prince, and her whole life
was devoted to the object which he placed before her.
It was not until after the death of Gregory, when
Matilda seemed to lose her firm and elevated bearing,
not until after her fatherly friend and ruler was re
moved, that she listened to a proposal of marriage ; and
although then forty, allowed herself to marry quite a
young prince, who had sought her hand for the sake of
the hereditary lands which he supposed her to possess. I
do not know whether there exists a good biography of
this Matilda ; certain it is that she deserves to be com
memorated, as one of the most remarkable and most
interesting female characters of Italy.
Occupied by the contemplation of her monument,
and of many splendid monuments of departed popes, I lin
gered in St. Peter's until twilight came and extinguished
the sunbeams, which slowly, and as if with reluctance,
withdrew from the church, the beautiful portions and
pictures of which they finally illumined with caressing
and brilliant light. Darkness crept in, enveloping
every object in this deeper, closer gloom — yet no — not
all ; for in proportion as it darkened, a circle of softly
glimmering lights around the tomb of Peter and Paul
increased in brightness. A circle of silent supplicants
bowed, as usual, upon their knees around it. This
circle, and above them the gigantic rotunda of
Michael Angelo, are the most beautiful monuments of
St. Peter's church.
I retain, from my conversation with the Pope,
the impression that he is naturally a man of liberal
mind, who has become, as it were, incrusted and
crystallized by the artificial institution and ceremonial
life of the Popedom ; so that his inner, original life has
become quenched, and that he will continue in this
form, and will never more behold his former Christian

AGAIN I WILL ASK THE POPE. 155
identity, from the dread of coming into perpetual
opposition with his present rank and all his surround
ings. He will believe on the divine institution of the
Popedom, because he is Pope, and because Roman
Catholic Christianity will have a centre in the Pope,
and will maintain him upon his temporal throne, as
such — for the present. He believes that it cannot be
otherwise, and he will believe that it ought to, and that
it must be so. He evidently sees no other unity and
other rule but — the mechanical. Catholics in general
do not see any other, and, what is worse, neither do
many Protestants. But these latter have a different
centre of gravity.
Well, well ! Let it stand, this mechanical unity and
order, until its spiritual life becomes strong enough to
burst the imprisoning husk, and, like the tree of the
world — a new Ygdrasil — grow lofty and beautiful,
a tree of life for all people under God's free heaven !
" People ought to believe in the Pope ! " I cannot
forget these words. They were spoken with such
decision, with such entire conviction, by the Pope him
self, that they deserve to be more closely considered.
And so they shall be by me, not as a Protestant, but as
a Catholic Christian, and therefore I will yet once
more "ask the Pope," not Pio Nono, but a greater
than he, even the greatest and noblest who has
occupied the Pontifical chair, he whom Roman Catholic
Christianity designates Gregory the Great; I will ask
him whether " People ought to believe the Pope ? " as
the infallible legislator and judge in spiritual questions,
in questions about what " people ought to believe and
teach." And I shall be introduced to him, not by
Monsignore de Merode, but by the erudite and truth-
loving historian, August Neander.
Mighty in a different way, to what it is now, was the

156 GREGORY THE GREAT.
Roman cure of souls at the time when Gregory the
First — the Great — became its head. All the increasing
communities of Christendom, in Asia, Africa, and
Europe, were gathered under his care ; he watched over
their pastors, he governed and ordered the temporal
affairs of the common church, he appointed and dis
placed teachers in the south and in .the east, and sent
to the far northern Britain the Abbot Augustin (in the
year 596), with various other pious men, to impart to its
people the gracious gifts of the Gospel.* All the
teachers and members of Christianity looked up to him
as to the supreme teacher and priest, as to the temporal
head of the Church. His views, however, of his dignity
and rank as the Roman bishop and father (Papa) were
very unlike those which I heard expressed by his latest
successor. But I will let Neander speak on this subject,
according to the documents which he — but not I — had
studied : —
" Gregory was animated by the conviction that, as
the successor of the Apostle Peter, the care of the
whole Church — the Greek Church also included, as well
as its highest guidance — had devolved upon him. But
although he permitted to the Roman Church the dignity
of supreme judge over all the other churches, he was,
nevertheless, far from wishing to disallow or infringe
* One day, whilst Gregory was merely abbot in a monastery of
Rome, as he was walking amongst the people who bought and
sold in one of the markets of the city, his attention was drawn
to some youths of noble appearance who were offered there for
slaves. He enquired to what people they belonged, and learned
with great sorrow that this people, so distinguished by nature,
were as yet wholly destitute of the higher gifts of grace. After
wards, when Bishop of Rome, Gregory purchased the freedom of
all Anglo-Saxon youths, had them instructed in Christianity, and
never rested until he made the whole of them participators in its
life and doctrine. — Author's note.

HIS REPROOF OF EULOGIUS. 157
the independent dignity of the others. When the
Patriarch Eulogius, of Alexandria, in a letter to him,
made use of the expression, 'as you commanded,'
Gregory desired him never again to employ such a
phrase, ' for,' said he, ' I know who I am, and who you
are. You are my brother in dignity, but on account of
your piety I regard you as my father. I have not
commanded you in anything, I have endeavoured only
to show you that which appeared profitable to me.'
Eulogius had also called him Papa universalis, a title
of honour, which the Greeks, with their taste for a
rhetorical and complimentary mode of speech, often
allowed to their bishops. Gregory, however, felt this
to be unseemly, and wrote to Eulogius, as well as to
others who also gave him the designation of universal
bishop : ' Far from us be all terms which inflate pride
and wound love ! ' He strove earnestly that this name
should be alone applied to the Saviour, as the invisible
head of the general Church, regarding it as inapplicable
to any man. ' And truly,' adds he, ' when Paul heard
that some said, I am of Paul, others of Apollos, and
others again of Cephas, he exclaimed, with the greatest
abhorrence of this sundering from Christ, ' Was Paul
crucified for you, or were you baptized in Paul's name ? '
If the Apostle could not thus bear that the members of
the Lord's body should arrange themselves piecemeal
under other heads, what canst thou, at the Last Day,
reply to Christ — the head of the universal Church
— who hast endeavoured to subordinate to thyself all
the members of Christ. And truly, what is Peter, the
first amongst the Apostles, other than a member of the
holy, universal Church? What are Paul, Andrew,
and John, other than the heads of separate com
munities ? And all, nevertheless, exist only as members
under the one Head."*
• See Neander's " Church History."

158 GREGORY VII.
Thus wrote a great Roman Bishop, five centuries
after the Apostle Peter, of the dignity which apper
tained to him and his successors in the chair of the
Roman bishops.
But even the rank of supreme pastor of the Christian
community permitted by Gregory to Peter, and his
successors in the Roman chair, appears unfounded when
we read the history of the earliest Church in the Acts
of the Apostles and the Epistle of Peter. From these
sources it appears evident that the Apostles did not
ascribe to Peter any other dignity than was possessed
by the rest, and that Peter did not claim any such for
himself. This is clearly shown in the- 5th chapter of
the first Epistle of Peter. And if this Peter could now
make his appearance on the earth it would be most
assuredly as a protestant against his Roman representa
tive. It is clear, then, that the first disciples and
friends of Christ did not understand Christ's words to
Peter as the Roman Church explains them, and
that this explanation is founded in the circumstances,
which must not be looked for in the Word of God and
those writings which preserve it. By the light which
history and its honest inquirers have thrown upon past
ages, it is not difficult to discover these circumstances,
and to understand how fruitless would be the noble
combat of Gregory the Great against the unrighteous
elevation of the Popedom to a supernatural, all-
dominant, temporal power — how this power increased
and increased, partly from outer necessity, partly from
inner worldliness — the power of the old serpent in the
human heart — until five centuries after the first
Gregory, a second of the same name, also great in
disposition and will, although, so it appears to me, less
pure, less free from selfishness than the first —
could, with firm faith and will, regard himself as the

HIS VIEW OF THE PAPAL POWER. 159
representative of a domination, is excellently described
in the following words taken from a letter written by
Gregory VII., and given by Johannes Voigt, whose
history of this Pope even Catholics highly esteem : — *
" The Church of God must be free from all earthly
human sway ; the altar is only for him who eternally
succeeds St. Peter ; the sword of the ruler is below the
Church, its power is merely derived from it because it
is a human being ; the altar, the chair of St. Peter, is
only below God, and only from God. The Church is
now sinful because she is not free, because she is firmly
fettered to the world and to worldly men ; her servants
are not her right servants, because they are appointed
by worldly men, and arer by this means, what they
are. Therefore, sinful desires and passions prevail in
the persons consecrated to Christ, who are called over
seers of the communities ; therefore they strive alone
after earthly things, because, bound to the world, they
require that which is earthly ; therefore contention and
strife, pride, rapacity, envy, exist amongst them, with
whom the peace should abide ; therefore the Church is,
through them, ill-governed," &c.
" Religion is a severe [combat — the human heart is
cold towards the Divine word — here and there the faith
is trodden down. For this reason the Church must
become free, and that through her head — through
the foremost in Christianity, through the sun of faith,
the Pope. The Pope sits in the place of God ; he rules
His kingdom on earth. Without the Pope there exists
no realm — it crumbles away, it becomes a staggering
vessel, and is shivered to pieces. As the affairs of the
world are the business of the emperor, so are the affairs
of God the business of the Pope. Consequently the
» " Hildebrand, as Gregory VII., and his Times," by Johannes
Voigt, 1846. — Author's note.

1 60 THE POPE IS ABOVE ALL.
Pope must release the servants of the altar from the
bond of the temporal power. One is the state,
another is the church. As the saving faith is one, so is
also the Church one ; so is the Pope her one head ; so
are her members, her servants, also all one. If now the
Church exists solely in herself, so must she also exist
solely through herself. As nothing spiritual is visible
and perceptible without the earthly, so the soul is not
active without the body — so cannot religion exist with
out the Church, nor the Church without possessing a
secure opulence. The soul is nourished through the
earthly in the body ; the Church is maintained, also,
merely by means of land and wealth, and it is incum
bent upon him who holds the supreme weapon, the
emperor, to be watchful that the Church obtain this,
and that it be preserved to her. Therefore the em
peror and the great of the world are necessary to the
Church, which only exists through the Pope, as he
through God. If, therefore, the Church and the world
are to stand well, the priestly and the kingly power
must be agreed, and both must strive after one purpose
— the peace and unity of the world. The world is
governed by two lights — by the sun the greater, and
the moon the lesser. Thus is the apostolic power like
the sun, the kingly power like the moon. The latter
also gives light only through the former — so with
emperors, kings, and princes, they are only through the
Pope, because he is through God. Thus, the power of
the Papal chair is far greater than the power of the
throne, and kings owe obedience and submission to
popes. According as the Pope is through God, and in
the place of God, so is everything placed under him —
all matters, both temporal and spiritual, belong to his
judgment-seat — he shall teach, exhort, punish, im
prove, condemn, and decide. The Church is the divine

THE HOLY MOTHER-CHURCH. 161
judgment-seat, and renders account to God of the sins
of mankind. She teaches the right way — she is the
finger of God. The Pope is the governor under
Christ and over all. Therefore is his office a high,
important, and arduous office ; for it is written, ' Thou
art Peter, and upon this rock will I build my church,
and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it ; and I
will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven,
and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound
in heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth
shall be loosed in heaven.' Thus spake Christ to
Peter. But the Romish Church exists through Peter,
therefore the power of the keys is with her. The
community of Christ is built upon Peter. This com
munity embraces all who acknowledge his name, who
call themselves Christians ; thus are all isolated com
munities members of the community of Peter — that is
to say, of the Roman Church. Thus is she the mother
of all Christian churches, and all churches are her sub
jects, as daughters to their mother. She takes upon
herself all their troubles, she may demand from them
all reverence and obedience. She is the mother of all,
and therefore has command over all her several mem
bers — amongst whom are emperors, kings, princes, arch
bishops, bishops, abbots : by virtue of her power and
the keys she can appoint and remove them, she can
give them power, not for transitory glory, but for the well-
being of many. They must therefore submissively obey.
If they walk in the ways of sin, then will the holy mother
convert them and guide them into those which are right;
if she do not so, then she sins through them. But he
who builds up this, mother, watches over her, follows
and protects her, he obtains, through her, protection
and benefit. The world now lies in wickedness — this
age is the iron age — the Church throughout the whole
VOL. II. M

162 THE LAST WORDS OF GREGORY VII.
world suffers great tribulation. Renovation and a
better state of things must proceed from the head of
the Church— he must proclaim warfare against and
annihilation of all evil ; all who have zeal for justice
and virtue must stand by her; he who hates or
oppresses the Church is not a child of the Church, but
of the devil, and ought to be thrust out from her, and
cut off from all communion with mankind. Conse
quently the Church must be free, and all within her
irreproachable and pure. The attainment to this is the
Pope's chief endeavour. And so it must remain to
be." That Gregory VII. himself perfectly believed in the
ideal of the Papal power which he thus described, is
shown by his whole life, which was an incessant combat
for the realization of this ideal ; is proved by his stead
fast conduct under the abuse and peril of life to which
he was more than once subjected in consequence; is
proved, finally, by his last words on his death-bed, far
from Rome, where he desired to have made the chair of
St. Peter the centre of the world.
"I have loved righteousness and hated ungodliness,
therefore I die in exile."
A bishop who was present replied : —
"My Lord, thou canst not die in exile, because thou
hast, in the place of Christ and the Apostles, made by
a divine ordination the people of the earth thine
inheritance, and the whole world thy possession ! "
But these beautiful words were spoken to a corpse.
They were unheard by Gregory. He had already
gone to hear the judgment of God.
The system by which Gregory VII. designed to
purify and elevate the Church, and into which entered,
as one of the principal means, the disseverance of the
priesthood from marriage and family-life, was carried

COUNTERACTING INFLUENCES TO PAPAL POWER. 163
out by his successors, and finally attained to the trium
phant establishment which the strong will of Gregory,
and the disordered state of the world, had prepared for
it. Perhaps there might be no other means of bring
ing it, still in its minority, to order and unity, at least,
in the outward. Perhaps that powerful ruling spirit
was right in his view, and wrong only in so far as he
sought from that which was merely a temporal form a
mode of government fitted for a few centuries, a time
of education and discipline for the new human race, to
construct a normal condition, an eternal divine ordina
tion. His portrait expresses a certain contraction of
mind as well as the steadfastness of an inflexible
will. It gives me the impression of a species of spi
ritual petrifaction. The powerful character of his own
mind, and the weakness of the world, inspired him with
faith in his papal infallibility, and in the destructive
force of his excommunication. Certain it is that,
under the alternating anathemas and blessings of him-
self and his successors, princes and peoples were seen
by degrees to bow themselves, and the whole Christian
world became obedient to the legislator on the chair of
St. Peter. But when the pontifical crook was changed
to a sceptre of the world, then it was broken. Popes
worthy of detestation, such as Alexander VI. ; worldly
and vain popes, such as Julius II. and Leo X. ; but,
beyond everything else, the want of tenacity in the
system itself, and its natural decay in proportion to the
increasing culture of the Christian world; the exhibi
tion of a pure, religious life amongst the men and
the nations who were influenced by the Reformation,
and in times which were at hand, brought about that
conflict of the world which overturned for ever the
system of Gregory and the exclusive power of the
Pope, at least in the sense that Gregory understood it.
M 2

164 THE POPEDOM
For although still the greater part of Christendom ac
knowledges itself as of the Papal Church, still how
small is the power of that Church, compared with what
it was formerly, over either nations or the human
mind ! And this power decreases in outward authority
every day. And must it not be so when she herself
loses sight of the highest ? Is it God in Christ which
this Church now proclaims ? Is it not much more the
Holy Virgin ? The present Pope, Pio Nono, who con
siders himself to have received especial help in a time
of great need from the intercession of the Virgin, has
promulgated in St. Peter's the dogma of her perfect
immaculation, consequently divinity; and it is to her
honour, and la Colonna, which has been erected in her
glorification, that the successor of St. Peter this year
commanded all tongues should give praise at the great
annual festival of the Roman Propaganda ! And yet
Pio Nono insists that people must believe on the Pope,
must regard him as the representative of Christ on
earth, and infallible as our Lord ! But the Holy Scrip
tures and thoughtful Christianity, and sound reason —
no, it will not do !
I cannot deny myself the satisfaction of giving here
an extract which struck me, from a book which I am
now reading, namely, " The Roman Pontifical Monu
ments : " — *
" There will come a time when the Pontifical monu
ments will have a significance like that of the busts
and statues of the Roman emperors at the present
time. There will then be no longer any popes. Reli
gion will then have assumed a new form, to us as yet
unknown, and a human race, then differently classified,
will, without doubt, contemplate this ancient popedom
as a much more magnificent creation than we who are
* "Historical Study," by Gregorovius, 1857.

IN THE EYES OF FUTURE AGES. 165
now living conceive it to be. Is it not the most har
monious system, which thus exhibits itself in an all-
embracing form in a democracy expanding itself through
all the members of this unlimited political body, a
severely-regulated aristocracy, an absolutism without a
legal successor, which again rests on a democratic basis.
In the immeasurable spiritual sphere, which embraces
heaven, earth, and hell, which divides and determines
them, with a policy and at the same time a phantasy of
which merely to think makes the brain dizzy, the Pope
has placed himself as the centre, he for the most part
a weak old man. The lightnings of heaven are placed
in a trembling hand. Of a truth people will
look back after innumerable years to these old men of
St. Peter as upon wonderful beings of antiquity. Some
of their monuments, in particular those of metal, will
still then be in existence, and people will stand before
these old men, with their grave majesty as rulers, with
the triple-crowned tiara, with their gloomy or mild,
fanatical or benevolent countenances, with their hands
raised for blessing or for cursing, and will exclaim :
' These were popes, spiritual fathers and chiefs of the
world at that time ! How antiquated and how dark
the world must then have been ! '
" She was so, and she was not so. From these old
men emanated old age and darkness, it is true, but also
youth and light, and many of them had fresher hearts
than many young but early-aged kings have had. But
one cannot refrain from a feeling of wonder when one
reflects, standing before these priestly forms in St.
Peter's, what an amount of power the human race has
for so many centuries unanimously conceded to them !
" They advanced out of darkness, not as kings who
were born to the people — many of them were born in

166 ANTITHESES.
poverty and meanness, and yet hereditary emperors
kissed their feet, and called themselves vassals of their
grace. They were yesterday unknown and of no con
sideration, and already to-day they guide the reins of
the world's history, and decide on the fate of nations.
They ascended the throne of the world in the beggar's
or the hermit's cloak, and the world did not wonder at
it. Neither races nor nations gave the deciding vote
for their elevation; people scarcely knew whether they
were Greek or Syrian, German or Spaniard, French
man, Englishman, or Italian — because all nations
obeyed them. And as they ascended the throne without
having had a presentiment of their elevation, so they
descended from it without knowing in whose hands
the humour of the moment would place their staff.
None of them knew in the hour of death who would be
their successor, and yet their elective empire, the most
accidental in the world, was immovable as the Divine
necessity. " That which they spake became the law of the
world. They were more terrible than Jehovah. They
could lay upon a whole race, by a word, despair and
the stillness of death, and spread the solitude of a
churchyard over whole nations.
"They could proclaim war and peace, found and
destroy kingdoms. They gave away lands and seas,
which yet were not their own. A stroke of their pen
on the map of the world became the boundary-line of
peoples and kings.
" They commanded the human mind to stand still,
or allowed it merely as much action as they thought
right. They measured it out very sparingly for science,
still more sparingly for freedom, and prevented its too
hasty diffusion by artificial impediments, by love and
by fear.

THE SECRET OF THE PAPAL POWER. 167
" They were rulers even of the disposition of the
world. Their power was founded on faith and super
stition. They ruled in the realm of mind by the magic
wand of the imagination.
" They had power even over time. They cast out
of the earthly as well as out of the heavenly paradise ;
they hurled the human soul into the abyss of hell, and
drew it again thence ; they took hold upon the remotest
future, as well as on the past, from which, like spirit-
conjurors, they summoned human souls to obey their
voice. For they had power both to loose and to bind.
" Their whole being was mythic, but nevertheless
their whole empire was as real as it was powerful, a
power intermarrying heaven and earth.
" Their word declared human beings blessed, raised
them amongst the saints of heaven, and enabled them
to perform miracles. They were the judges of the
living and the dead.
" Whence came this enigmatical power into a weak
and mortal human being, this power which never
before made its appearance in history, neither will ever
again ?
" There exists in humanity a deep and primeval, I
might say an elementary, longing after unity. When
we look attentively into history, we may hear this
longing incessantly poured forth, may hear its har
monious and discordant music. This ideal unity of
the human race is represented in the Boman pope ; it
was the magic key of his power. He has appropriated
to himself the organism of humanity, or of the com
munity of the world, as the body and its members
appropriate to themselves the one actuating soul. And,
further still — the harmony of the general life which
he condensed and ruled in the Church, he has extended
to the whole universe. He has bound up earth with

168 HOW THE PAPAL REGENERATION IS POSSIBLE.
heaven, so that this unity is continued in an immea
surable circle into eternity. He made himself the
image of God on earth."
I add, that was his sin. It has been, and continues
to be punished according to the plan of the world's
history. The artificial social-erection, the centre of
which was the pope, is now — a ruin ; he himself — a
schoolmaster, with a great number of disobedient
scholars. But that which was eternally true in the
dogmas he taught, in the unity he believed in, and by
virtue of which the nations bowed before him, that still
remains, and will explain itself in a higher unity, a
higher harmony in a gospel freedom and light.
And if another Gregory the Great should one day
arise and sit upon the episcopal throne of Rome, then
he will, like the first of the name, renounce the worldly
and false popedom, reject the title of Papa Universalis;
will not demand "faith in the pope," but will desire
merely to be a servant of Christ, alike in dignity with
every episcopal pastor. And if he, like the first
Gregory, avail himself of his elevation, merely to be a
teacher and an unwearied labourer, an example to the
community, then will the Christian people, and not
alone the Roman Catholics, but all, reverence him,
and voluntarily give him the surname of The Great,
even if he should divest himself of the triple-crowned
tiara, and perhaps even for that very cause. There is
a grandeur to which the whole Christian world more and
more willingly pays homage, and that is of the Spirit.
March the \%th. — The almond-trees are in blossom,
and the Campagna of Rome is becoming verdant ; but
the air is altogether cold, although its chilly gray cha
racter has disappeared, and the sun now shines in full
splendour. The tramontana blows violently, and the
Sabine mountains are covered with snow.

THE DEATH OF FOUR CARDINALS. 169
" We have never had such a cold winter !" say the
inhabitants of Rome, and I know that I myself have
never had such a serious influenza. But this is now
over ; the sun shines ; the spring advances, and I will
give some little account of that which has occurred
since I last wrote.
At that time the influenza, like a wild beast, began
to make serious ravages in Rome, and a number of
deaths occurred in the higher circles. Amongst the
deaths were those of four cardinals. These four
announcements of sorrow were succeeded by four an
nouncements of joy, the nominations of the four new
cardinals, who had then to be congratulated and com
plimented without end, and that not merely by friends
and acquaintance, but also by — the whole world of
Rome, which is done on a certain day in the week,
when the new cardinals hold a grand reception for the
whole world. After this they invite the whole world
on another day of the same week, when they publicly
receive the cardinal's hats, place them on their heads,
and receive honour and reverence from the princes of
the Church, and take precedence even of all the royal
princes in the world, besides having the prospect-
though it may be distant — of the triple crown ! But
nevertheless they pay dearly for all this honour and
glory, as it appears to cost more than twelve thousand
scudi to become a cardinal. For this reason they are
frequently obliged to run into debt. But they easily
borrow what they wish, because their annual income as
cardinals is considerable.
After the influenza had ended its ravages in Rome,
another malady seemed to seize upon everybody. This
was a perfect frenzy of visiting and invitations, and,
although I excused myself from the greater number of
invitations which were sent to me, because I could not

o

170 THE GRAND-DUCHESS HELENA.
do otherwise, yet even I, in the end, took this con
tagion, and gave a couple of small soirees to my Scan
dinavian and other friends who had shown me kindness
in Rome. I am now glad that they .are over, and that
they were so successful, because, next to making human
beings happy, there is nothing more hazardous than the
undertaking to amuse them ; but agreeable and accom
plished people and music considerably decrease the
difficulty. Two skilful mandolin-players that I en
gaged for one of these evenings, and who came in their
national costume, entertained me greatly. The soul
and the overflowing life which they know how to put
into the little quill, with which they play upon the
strings of the guitar, is something inconceivable. ,
I shall always retain a charming remembrance of two
invitations which I felt obliged to accept ; they were
from the Grand-duchess Helena of Russia, who is this
winter residing in Rome ; she summoned me first to an
audience, and two days afterwards invited me to a
soirh. I willingly obeyed ; I was glad to become
better acquainted with this princess, whose character
has always stood so high and pure, and who distin
guished herself during the late war in the East, in
a manner worthy of the Christian woman and the
thoughtful princess, and who is alone influenced and
guided by her own heart and her religious life. It was
this princess, who, by her own means, organized the
association of Sisters of Mercy, as well in the Greek
Church as of the Protestant evangelical faith, who
performed such great service amongst the wounded and
the sick in the Crimea, and who stood by them so
heroically even in the storming of Sebastopol. I was
glad to become better acquainted with this lady.
On the first occasion she received me alone. Her
personal appearance and manners are of the class which

MY VISIT TO HER. 171
immediately produce an agreeable impression. She is,
probably, about fifty ; her figure is nobly beautiful, and
traces of great beauty, but of nervous suffering also,
are discernible in the still youthful, delicate, and touch
ing countenance. Pier manners are lively, the expres
sion of her countenance sensible and full of soul. The
interesting points in the conversation were her inquiries
regarding my religious development, and the informa
tion which she gave in reply to my inquiries on the
formation of the order of Russian Sisters of Mercy,
just alluded to. She asked the Emperor Nicholas what
he thought of her plan, and he answered : —
" I doubt whether it will be very successful, but —
you can try ! "
The attempt succeeded beyond all expectation. The
Grand- duchess had merely to select from the members
of the servants of Christ, belonging to every class of
society, who came forward from the two different
churches, to unite themselves under His name and for
His service; but the example which she wished to give
them, and which she gave, by her own service in the
hospitals, and by binding up the wounded, together
with the sight of these sufferings and so much misery,
affected her nervous system to that degree that she
has suffered from it to the present time. I could per
ceive, also, from many half-suppressed expressions, that
the Grand-duchess Helena had deeply experienced
what suffering is in another way, namely, of the soul.
It was extremely interesting to me to hear her speak
of the great reform — the abolition of serfdom in
Russia — which the present Emperor, Alexander, has
undertaken ; and she enabled me more clearly to
understand the means by which he, and they who are
working with him, endeavour to accomplish this change
of old-established relationship without political convul-

172 OUR CONVERSATION.
sion or any injurious results either to the owners of the
serfs or to the serfs themselves. Of these latter there
are not less than thirty millions. The Emperor has
demanded from the great landed proprietors a state
ment of their several opinions and views regarding the
accomplishment of this great work, and the Grand-
duchess, who is one of them, was now preparing her
memorandum on the subject. Her remarks with re
ference to this important reform showed both a sense
of equity and prudence. She wholly approved of the
Emperor's undertaking; she observed, amongst other
things, that although the condition of the serfs in
Russia was a great deal better than people believed,
yet still it was a state of injustice, which, in itself, was
wrong. The laws did not permit a serf to make a
complaint, nor yet to become a witness against his
master; in this state of things, therefore, a great
amount of injustice took place without being punished
or even made known. In a Christian state, she said,
" the law ought to be alike' for all !"
I cannot say what good it did me to hear the noble
princess speak thus simply, and as if from the deep
conviction of her soul. I saw, in spirit, the light of a
new dawn ascending from the East, and enfranchised
Russia becoming a liberator of its multitudinous and
yet enslaved people. This proceeding of the Autocrat
of Russia appears to me to be one of the greatest and
most gladdening occurrences of the present century, and
the Czar who accomplishes it to be a far greater man
than Alexander the Great. Alexander II. of Russia
deserves the beautiful surname of Liberator, a far more
beautiful, and, at the same time, a far happier surname
than that of Conqueror ! I left the Grand-duchess with
the feeling of having seldom enjoyed a more interesting
or more satisfactory conversation.

MY SECOND VISIT. 173
The next time I saw her was at her soiree. She did
not enter the room until the company had assembled ;
slightly nodded to the right and the left, after which
she went from one group to another, sometimes seating
herself, and conversed with all. I could not but admire
her skill in entering upon every kind of subject, and
having something to say on them all. She never stops
short in the superficial or the insignificant, nor does she
ever lose herself in the profound, she immediately gives
the subject under discussion a practical turn, or brings
it within the range of human experience. She is evi
dently a woman of quick comprehension, great integrity
of mind, and clear understanding. Her demeanour
.and mode of speaking are so easy and free that they
make others also feel perfectly at their ease.
I had an especial pleasure this evening from the
conversation of two young Russian princesses, both
lively, agreeable, and also more well-read than I ex
pected to find young Russian ladies. A young maid
of honour, fair, handsome, and rigid as a wax figure,
sat in grand attire, and made tea during the whole
evening. The singer of the Grand-duchess's chapel, a
very handsome young German lady, with a splendid
voice, sang various pieces. At half-past eleven the
Grand-duchess saluted the company with a short nod
and disappeared, after which one and all departed to
their various homes.
I have had great enjoyment at two grand musical
soirees, and also from meeting with various persons of
different nations — Rome is a rendezvous of all — have
seen much beauty and many elegant toilettes. But,
oh ! if the young ladies, and still more the elder ones,
did but know how unbecoming it is to expose their
bare shoulders as they now do, and what disagreeable
remarks gentlemen make about them ! Rank, wealth,

174 THE DEDICATION OF THE NUNS.
beauty, talent, or learning, seem to be all equally avail
able letters of introduction to the grand saloons of Rome.
On Sunday, the fourteenth, I was present at the de
dication of two nuns in the convent of St. Philippo,
near Santa Maria Maggiore. Jenny, who was somewhat
fatigued after the party of the preceding evening, de
clined going out so early in the morning, and thus I set
off alone. It was a fresh cool morning, but the sun
shone gloriously, and I enjoyed the walk in the plea
sant morning air, and thought with compassion of the
young girls who were now about to dissever themselves
from all pleasures of this kind. Meeting on my way with
the Baroness E  and her daughter, who were also
going to witness the same ceremony, I was invited to.
join them.
The whole street, as we approached the convent, was
strewn with sprigs of myrtle, and men of the Pope's
body-guard were stationed at the convent gates. We
entered the refectory, a spacious light room, the large
windows of which admitted the sunshine, and afforded
a view into the garden, where golden fruit shone upon
the trees. Two groups of ladies were seated here, tak
ing their coffee-breakfast. A very pretty young girl,
with a fresh, life-enjoying exterior, and the loveliest
teeth, dressed in white silk, with a lace veil, and splendid
jewels, went from one of these groups to the other, em
bracing and being embraced. It was for the last time,
for she is " the bride of Christ," and will this day be con
secrated to the Holy One, and not embrace an earthly be
ing more. She wishes to appear gay and contented,
but there is a feverish, nervous vivacity in her manners.
The elder nuns, in their white caps and neckerchiefs,
which are very becoming, and also with white tunics
over their black dresses, trip affably backwards and
forwards through the room, making their various ar-

COMMENCEMENT OF THE CEREMONY. 175
rangements. They are all pale, but still their counte
nances are bright, and the expression good and peaceful.
We proceed to the little convent church, where the
candles are now being lighted, and the Cardinal who is
to celebrate the consecration is performing the toilette
before the altar. He is an old man, with a long pale
countenance, and handsome features, but as if cut out
of stone. The church fills by degrees, and the crowd
becomes great in front of the altar. Presently a pro
cession is seen slowly advancing through the dense
mass of people, towards the chapel, headed by two of
the Papal Guards, who clear the way ; then come two
young girls in white silk dresses, with lace veils and
jewels, she whom I saw in the refectory and her sister,
somewhat younger, I was told, but paler and more
serious. They are followed by their godmothers and
protectresses, elegant ladies in splendid dresses. The
two young girls having reached the chancel, fall down
on their knees before the Cardinal, who says something
in a low voice, first to the one, then to the other. After
this, each one receives a candle in her hand, when they
rise again, kneel down on the side of the choir, and so
continue the whole time whilst the Cardinal makes an
address to them, reading it, however, from a paper which
appears to me to be stereotyped, as well in matter as in
manner. The young sisters must resign the world, its
temptations and dangers, become brides of Christ, live
in constant communion with him on earth, in order one
day, when this life is over, to enter the joys of para
dise. The sisters both look pale, but exhibit little emo
tion. They resemble two doves, which know little about
their own fate, but are contented with it. Outside the
choir stands their father, with an expression of sym
pathy, without much feeling, whilst their mother is
bathed in tears.

176 THE DISROBING.
The two young girls again advance, and kneel before
the Cardinal, who cuts, with a large pair of scissors,
several locks of hair from the top of their heads. Two
elderly nuns, one of whom has a slight moustache, and
looks particularly masculine, complete the clipping of
the front hair, whilst the remainder, twisted up behind,
is left untouched, nor is it cut off until the novice as
sumes the black veil — the initiation vow taking place,
being that of the white veil, or first degree.
After this, the elderly nuns begin to disrobe the two
novices, who, kneeling before the Cardinal, with their
backs to the public, behave quite passively. This dis
robing, during which the white necks and throats of
the young girls, their lovely plaits of hair, and beauti
ful forms become visible, had in it something strange,
and a little revolting ; it might have been supposed
that they were about to make their toilette for the
night. Deep silence prevailed through the church. I
cast a glance at the priests who served at the cere
mony. They watched the white doves with outstretched
necks and greedy eyes, not with an evil and cynical ex
pression — but smiling and inquisitive, as if they were
amused by the scene.
When the disrobing of all the finery was completed,
the young girls bowed themselves to the ground, and
the quire began to sing : —
" Veni Spiritus Creator ! "
During the singing, which might have been better,
the sisters remained lying prostrate. Above the altar
was a picture, which expressed the presence of the
Spirit better than the singing ; it was a portrait of San
Philippo de Neri, the founder of the convent, and one
of the latest men of Italy, whose piety was of the grand
character. He is represented in the transport of prayer,

THE NEW NAMES. 177
and with an expression as if the peace and blessedness
of heaven were already his. A picture of rare simpli
city and inward feeling, but by what master I know
not. When the singing was concluded, the young girls
rose from the ground, and the attiring now commenced.
The new dresses, which were laid in order on the altar,
were brought to the Cardinal on two trays, who then
took them piece by piece, and gave to the two, who
still knelt, whilst in so doing he said a few words as to
what they indicated. After this, the elderly nuns at
tired the young girls, covered their heads with little
white night-caps, and put on them white jackets, and so
on. Finally, the Cardinal placed over their heads a
large white stiff cloth, which, like a pyramid, enveloped
the upper part of the body, and above that he placed a
large crown of silver filigree and red roses. The
quire again sang a hymn to the Holy Ghost ; the two
young girls rose, and went slowly out, through a side
door in the chancel, the Cardinal following them. After
a little while they again entered, again they knelt in
the chancel before the Cardinal, who spoke to them
thus : —
"Thou who in the world art called Carlotta, shalt
henceforth, nella religione, be named Maria Nazarena
di San Luigi ! "
" And thou who in the world art named Marietta,
shalt henceforth, nella religione, be called Maria Anna
di Gesu ! "
After which the Cardinal having spoken the bless
ing, the ceremony was at an end, and the assembly dis
persed. The newly-dedicated young girls, their friends,
the Cardinal, and the elder nuns, might now be seen
walking about the convent cloisters and halls, con
fidentially and in family fashion, engaged in cheerful
VOL. II. N

1 78 DOWRY FOR YOUNG GIRLS.
conversation. The mother of the girls, however,
pressed them to her breast, weeping violently. She
seemed quite overcome with grief, and appeared indeed
to be the only one who experienced nothing but sorrow
from this scene. And I, for that reason, blessed the
maternal heart. A young nun, habited in black,
hastened with joy-beaming countenance to the Cardinal,
and kissed his hand.
"See," said the old prelate, jokingly, "how angry
she is with me because I made her a nun, (Monaca) ! "
We went into the refectory. The nuns invited us
kindly to stay and take some refreshment ; this con
sisted of extremely good ices and wafers, and every one
who came in hither from the church was entertained in
the same way. Each person was also presented with a
copy of printed verses, dedicated to the two sisters.
They were compared to two roses, now transplanted
into a garden, where, sheltered from the storms of the
world, they would be cultivated for the pleasure-courts
of paradise. The verses were beautiful, and may
probably contain the truth. The two young girls
belonged to a family of the citizen class, where the
circumstances were not affluent, and the daughters many.
Their friends and relations had contributed sufficient
means for the kind of dowry which is required when young
girls are received into the convent, and are thus pro
vided for during life.* I was glad to hear that the nuns
* There is a society in Rome called Archiconfratenita delta santis-
sissima Annunziata, founded by the Spanish Cardinal, Torquemada,
during the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella, the object of which
is to provide dowries for poor girls, either for their marriage, or
entrance into a convent — in both cases, as provision for them. The
Pope gives annually one hundred scudi to this fund, and each
Cardinal a scudo in gold. Six hundred girls are annually provided
for by means of this fraternal society. I acknowledge its good
intention, but how much better it would be if it assisted the young
girls to provide for themselves. — Author's note.

CONVENTUAL LIFE OF WOMAN. 179
of the order of San Philippo occupied themselves with
the education of children, and that these two young
sisters had devoted themselves to the same. The con
vent has a school. The nuns are permitted to receive
visits from their relations, and also allowed to go out
— once a year ! Consequently, the rules are not very
strict. The parents of the young girls are said to be glad to
have two of their daughters so well provided for. And
however much I may have heard and read against con
ventual life, yet I have received from this place a very
different impression. The bright and friendly expres
sion of the nuns, the well lighted rooms, the garden
which was so fresh and verdant with golden fruit
shining on the trees — I thought that life here might
not be unpleasant ! And I have seen this earthly life
so difficult in many ways for poor girls, especially for
those who are not richly endowed by nature, so much
humiliation in the world, so many straits at home, so
much anxiety for the morrow, so much discomfort,
sometimes even want in old age, that I cannot regard
it otherwise than as good fortune to be safely housed
in such a position, even if one must pay for it with a
portion of one's liberty. But there are convents of
another kind. The mild establishment of San Philippo
di Neri is differently constituted to the soul-destroying,
unnatural life of le Vive Sepolte, and others of the same
class, which prevails in many of the Italian convents.
In this institution the motherly part of the woman's
being is called into operation, and is developed by the
education of children ; here the family bond is not
altogether broken. The rules are not rigid ; the work
is good, daily, moderate ; the social life pleasant. The
young girl is safe from the necessities of life ; she may
live usefully to the world, whilst she calmly cultivates
n2

180 SAINT BRIGITTA AND HER INFLUENCE.
her soul for heaven ; and she may by its mercy attain to
that heavenly peace and joy which the beautiful
picture above the altar represents ! This, however, is
indispensable to those with whom it succeeds — they
must have a vocation for this quiet life, with its ap
pointed times and seasons for work, meal-times, hours
of prayer, hours of rest ! It would not suit every
one !
I have seen in San Philippo de Neri the bright side of
the conventual institution. But I know that there is
another — one which causes the child to be torn from
its parents, in order to enrich the convent ; which blinds
the human being to the natural ordinance of God,
blinds to His kingdom, in order to bind her to the
church of stone by ceremonies and dead forms ; and
which tears her from family life, in order to make her
the servant of the hierarchy and its despots : against
this side of the conventual institution I would read the
Litany, " Prove all things, and hold fast by that which
is good," says the Apostle.
March \6th. — I visited, in company with Madame
de Martino, the private chapel of Saint Brigitta,
and the rooms adjoining, which she inhabited during
her residence of twenty years in Rome, and which
remain still as they were then. The three little rooms
evidenced a mind which was weaned from the splen
dours of this world. The little chapel had been re
paired and beautified. Both it and the whole house
belong to the order of the Salvator Brothers, an order
which occupies itself in the education of youth. A
friendly Abbe who conducted us round the place spoke
much of the good influence which Brigitta, as well by
her conversation as her example, had upon the higher
order of the priesthood in Rome and Naples, which at
.that time had sunk into immorality and all kind of

PERE MARIE LOUIS. 181
disorder. When her eldest son, Karl Brahe, beloved by
the immoral Queen Joanna of Naples, was on his way
to become her husband, the holy Brigitta prayed night
and day that this marriage might not take place ; and
as the young man died before the marriage, the Abbe"
considered it as a proof that her prayers were heard.
In the afternoon I went with Jenny to the church of
San Luigi di Francesi, where, during the whole of
Lent, sermons are preached in French, for the French
nobility in Rome, to hear a Carmelite monk who now
is'the rage. The monk, Pere Marie Louis, has one of
those beautiful heads which are given in paintings to
the ancient ascetics and saints. A wreath of scanty
locks surrounds the head, the countenance, with its de
licate regular features, tells of much fasting and prayer ;
the expression is perfectly spiritual, mild, and peaceful.
His discourse was full of life, the delivery and voice
clear as crystal, salutary to the mind as pure colouring
or melody. The proofs which he adduced for the di
vinity of Jesus Christ were not new ; but the fervour
with which he spoke, the increasing earnestness towards
the end of his discourse, and its concluding exclama
tion — it was riveting, incomparable ! Pere Marie Louis
is either a holy man or a great artist ! I saw two Pro
testants quite transported by his discourse !
After the sermon he explained the conditions which
were absolutely necessary for the obtaining of Indul
gence pUniere during the jubilee now ordained by the
Pope. They were these : General confession — a visit
once ' in the week to the three churches, San Giovanni
di Lateran, St. Peter, and, if I am not mistaken,
Santa Sabina — as well as the praying, on each of these
occasions, five Paternosters and three Ave Marias.
The third condition was — fasting and alms-giving ; on
which the Carmelite monk remarked, in a delicate

132 AURORA LEIGH.
French style, to the soldiers : " You fast, I fancy, every
day the year round !" (general applause, and smiles
from the military in the church), " and it would be too
hard to impose upon you any more outward fast ; but
consider — could you not, after all, deny yourselves one
little superfluity? — for instance, the little half cup of
coffee after dinner? I am certain that you can, and
that you will do this, and give instead a sou (a bajocco)
each day to the poor ! "
He said this with all the grace and delicacy of a man
of the world, and at the same time with both earnest
ness and playfulness. The glances of the soldiers
hung upon his lips. Deep silence prevailed through
the church as long as he was speaking. Afterwards
there was singing by the military, and such singing as
I have never hitherto heard in the Italian churches.
When we returned home bonfires were blazing in
the streets, surrounded by noisy boys; and a great many
houses were illuminated, but in a feeble manner, that
is to say, with a couple of small lamps in each window.
This was in honour of the four cardinals, who gave a
grand reception this evening — to all the world. Very
well satisfied to have escaped such a throng, I sat at
our comfortable tea-table with my young friend, and
closed the evening with the reading of Mrs. Browning's
"Aurora Leigh," a first-rate book for the energetic,
poetical life of the language and feeling.
We have to-day made an excursion to the newly-
discovered church of St. Alexander and its catacombs,
seven miles out of Rome, on the old Nomentana road.
Commendatore Visconti, Baron Raimund, and various
other learned antiquarians, were of the party.
We crossed the Anio, a lively little river, which falls
into the Tiber, and saluted on its banks the hill Sacco,
where the plebeian population of Rome assembled for

NEWLY DISCOVERED CHURCH OF ST. ALEXANDER. 183
the first time, to the number of ten thousand, and pro
tested against the exclusive power of the patricians,
and also demanded a voice in the government of the
state. Now the contest is about spiritual rights and
liberties. And the contest must be still continued
until the great peace ; but it has increased, and still
increases, in significance.
The ruins of the church of St. Alexander lie deeply
buried in the earth, but they exhibit a remarkably
beautiful and careful style of architecture. The altar,
the broken columns, the walls, and the exquisitely-laid
mosaic floors, with roses of purple-tinted porphyry,
symbols of the blood of the martyrs, stand forth as
from a grave. The catacombs contained some interest
ing fragments of inscriptions; amongst other, the fol
lowing : —
" Sylvia ! thou who livest in peace, pray for Sylva-
nello and Alessandro ! "
In the mausoleums the marks may still be seen
of the lamps, and also of the small cups which held the
blood of the martyrs.
Interments are still continued round the church.
Commendatore Visconti shewed, in his comments upon
these ruins, the new and beautiful views unfolded by
the Christian comprehension of man and life, in com
parison with those of the heathen world. I always
listen to such comparisons willingly, though on the
present occasion I felt the want of various concessions
which impartial truth demanded. Christianity needs
no stilts of injustice to raise her above the stand-point
of heathenism.
The long, calm journey across the Campagna, that
desert in which Rome lies like a gigantic monument —
was to me the greatest pleasure of this excursion. You
see on all sides, along the immense waving grass-covered

184 THE NEGLECTED WEALTH OF THE PAPAL STATES.
plain, lying between Rome and the mountain barrier
line of the horizon, nothing but herds of cattle grazing, ,
ruins, and tombs, aqueducts, some solitary ruined
towers, and here and there a little farm. The wind
travels over the plain which no tree, nor rock, nor
town diversifies. All this produces a deep impression,
particularly when you remember that this plain, which
is now covered with grass, is a burial-place for human
generations and their magnificent works through many
ages. In a few places the earth had been turned over by
the plough, and the young vigorous seed was growing
strong and succulent, waving before the wind, and
giving clear evidence how affluent was the soil of the
Campagna. I have been told that if the Campagna
were brought into full cultivation it would make Rome
and the whole of the Papal States wealthy.
"But we want hands for this purpose," asserted a
young Monsignore to-day : " and I do not believe that
the earth would yield much ! "
Rome is in want of hands for the cultivation of the
earth and the production of the people's bread, because
she employs so many to attend to the churches and
their ceremonies. There are probably five thousand
priests and monks, and as many deacons or servants,
who are occupied in the service of the churches and
the daily ceremonies. In this manner ten thousand
pairs of hands are employed, of which certainly one
half at least might labour to more profitable results.
Man cannot live by bread alone, but neither can he live
alone by prayer, and least of all by official meditorial
prayer — this is shown most clearly by the multitude of
miserable wretches and beggars which exist in ecclesi
astical and priestly Italy. "Pray and work!" was
given as a rule for holy living, by an ancient father of

THE FAIR AT GROTTO FERRATA. 185
the Church. But the Romans do not love the work of
peace, and scorn at this day to till the earth.
We had at home in the evening the company of a
young Englishman, who has resided in Rome for ten
years. Although he loves the eternal city as his
second fatherland, and is by creed a Catholic, he is
nevertheless a friend to liberty of conscience and the
free exercise of religion, whilst he sees very clearly the
inutility of a church government in our temporal
affairs — in a word, of an ecclesiastical state like the
Pontifical, and he believes that it is impossible for it
long to maintain itself. He is an amiable young man,
thoughtful, and well educated.
April 1st. — I will now, with a rapid pen, describe
two excursions as cheerful as birds in spring. On the
first we flew by railway — the only one in the Papal
states — for two hours across the Campagna to Fras-
cati, and from there walked through oak woods to
Grotto Ferrata, where it was the annual fair. Great
crowds of people, mostly from the country, were buy
ing and selling, but doing all quietly and calmly. The
Italian does not get drunk at his merry-makings,
neither is he noisy, nor yet does he behave himself in
an unmannerly way. The Graces stood sponsors to
him at his birth, and have given him education. You
may pass safely and quietly through the densest
throng of people. At the same time that we saw
kindly and comfortable countrymen and women, we
saw Albana, Castel Gandolfo, the summer residence of
the Pope, saw everywhere beautiful trees, views and
scenes, fresh with spring. We closed the day "at the
good public-house La Posta, amidst cheerful conversa
tion with the country-people.
The day following, March 26th, we set off early in
the most glorious morning to the tombs of the Horatii

186 LAKE NEMI.
and the Curiatii — the ancient monument of Rome's
earliest tragedy. There they still stood, those grass-
grown stone pillars, just as they appeared in the pic
ture I had when a little girl, and called forth in my
childish fancy ardent dreams of great deeds and noble
sorrows ! How beautiful was this morning ! How full
of a vital strength, with its sharp lights and deep
shadows, passing over the living and the dead, its
vernally-fresh, life-giving air, its old memories, and its
present state ! Lord of life and death, how rich are
Thy treasures !
We went to Aricia, which beautifully-situated town,
with its environs, is the property of the princely family
Braschi,* and thence to Lake Nemi.
During the whole day you have a view of the sea,
which on the right bounds the horizon. We dined on
the shores of Lake Nemi. The dark blue and deep-
lying lake, calm as a mirror, with its crater-like, fertile
banks in the foreground, and beyond it the green, far-
stretching Campagna, with the monumental city of the
world, and again beyond that the light blue sea shim
mering in the loveliest sunshine — it was a sight and
scene never to be forgotten ! The sky was cloudless,
and so was the enjoyment of the whole day.
Very early the following morning we drove back to
Rome by the old Appian way. The larks sung their
resurrection-song above the vast grave-yard, the Cam
pagna, which shone green in the morning dew of
* Most of the Italian towns, and even Rome itself, are the pro
perty of some few princely families. The greater part of the in
habitants are merely tenants. Very few houses are the property
of those who inhabit them, and such houses have generally an in
scription, sometimes in golden letters, which testifies that they are
the possessione particolare of such and such persons. The greater
number of tenants again let off portions of their rooms, and so on,
ad infinitum. — Author's note.

THE FOUNTAIN AND GROVE OF EGERIA. 187
spring, whilst great shadows of wandering clouds sped
slowly across it, and over the surrounding mountains,
the Sabine, the Alban, and Monte Cavi, with the con
vent of the Passion on its summit. Upon the horizon
before us rose the lofty, solitary hill Soracto.
We drove between tombs and marble statues to the
fountain of Egeria. How delicious was the coolness of
shade, and of the clear water in the grotto ! The walls
of rock, and the niches which they contained, formed
by the hand of man, showed that the home of Egeria
was regarded in ancient times as a holy temple. That
home could then have been scarcely so picturesque as
now in its ruinous beauty. Nature had clothed the
stones with a mass of water-plants, with lovely Italian
Lycopodiums, which trembled to the bright ever-
falling tears of the gentle nymph of the fountain. A
very handsome but stout nymph of flesh and blood, in
the elegant costume of Albano, was busied here wash
ing and rinsing clothes at the fountain.
At a short distance on a hill is a grove of dark-green
iron-oaks, called the Grove of Egeria, and declared to
be a fragment of the large sacred grove which anciently
also inclosed the fountain, and where the wise Numa
asserted that he received inspiration from the nymph
for the formation of those laws which afterwards made
the Romans a strong and well-organized people, capa
ble of prudent legislation for many peoples.
In the beautiful grove, apparently the growth of
ancient tree-roots, neither stone memorials nor monu
ments are to be met with ; nothing but the evergreen
trees, and the soft soughing of the wind through their
branches — one fancies that in it one can perceive the
whispering of a spirit !
Tradition relates that, after the death of Numa, a
deputation of senators went out to the sacred grove to

188 Hadrian's villa.
discover the divine Virgin who gave the king of Rome
the inspiration of those mild and wise laws which made
its people happy, but that they only discovered a
fountain, to which sorrow for Numa's death had
changed Egeria. From amidst the cool shadows of
the grove one looks forth on every side, over the
sun-bathed Campagna, with its ruins of temple and
tower. Fountain and grove are both wonderfully charming
places in the neighbourhood of the old city of the
world ; and I must, if possible, visit them again.
Three days later we drove to Tivoli,in the same
good company. The morning was rainy, and we were
at first doubtful whether we should go, or whether we
should not. The decision was made on the courageous
side of the question, and heaven rewarded the courage.
The farther we drove the brighter it became; the
larks began to sing in joyful chorus, and we also re
joiced. Amongst the small pleasures of life there is
scarcely any greater than that of seeing the weather
change from threatening to good humour, when one has
an excursion of pleasure in hand.
We drove first to Hadrian's villa, a work of vanity
on a grand scale, which the mighty Roman emperor
— in outward measure one of the most fortunate of the
emperors of Rome — caused to be erected in memory of
the temples, academies, and other remarkable objects
which he had seen during his journeys into the various
lands under the rule of his sceptre. The magnificent
villa now stands like a desolated city of ruinous walls,
and in part tolerably well-preserved buildings, which
testify of its extraordinary grandeur. The treasures of
this place — at least those which could be removed —
have long since been conveyed to the museums of
Rome, Paris, London, Munich, and other cities.

TIVOLI. 189
Amidst this city of memories and splendid buildings
the imperial architect had a throne raised for him
self in a semi-circular temple commanding a view of
Rome. But more striking to me than all these magnificent
erections was the faith in the duration and security of
human life which must have been possessed by these
great ones of the earth, who would be worshipped as
gods, and who built for themselves thrones and
temples !
" But they y-vanish, y-vanish anon,
And their memories vanish when they are gone ! " *
We came to Tivoli. The sun shone brightly
between flying clouds, and lit up the cascades, which,
white-foaming and rushing, were hurled down the
lofty rocks, where the temples of Vesta and the Sibyl
stand in solitary beauty. All around whispered the
deep and beautiful wood. I cannot express how
delightful and happy was the whole of this day, spent
in rambling through this exquisite region, and in
cordial society.
So much has been written about Tivoli, its cascades,
villas, and temples, that I will make my description
short. It is the river Anio, which comes dancing in wild,
youthful joy from the Sabine hills, where it has its
source, down the rocks at Tivoli — a portion of which
rocks consist of immense petrified tree-trunks — and
forms, within the extent of about two miles, a number
of the prettiest falls, which have been called, according
to their size, Cascata, Cascatelli, Cascatellini. They leap,
foaming and singing, down into a valley, where the
Anio becomes tranquil, and makes for itself a con-
* " The Angel of Death/' by J. O. Wallin.

190 HOTEL A LA SIBYLLE.
venient bed, whence to betake itself into the Tiber.
The road follows the windings of the valley, and you
have, during the whole ramble, the view of the cascades
from the hill on the other side between the ruined
temples and fragments of houses, old and gray as the
rocks upon which they stand. But the slopes of the
hills are verdant from the silvery dew of the cascades,
and almond and peach-trees shine out, with their white
and pale pink crowns, like an elegant, lovely embroidery
upon a green ground, through the whole extent of the
valley, along which flows the Anio, calm and clear as a
mirror, between the rushing cascades and amongst
blossoming orchards, out into the Campagna, on the
extreme distance of which rises the dome of St. Peter's,
solitary and lofty, as if to say, with Michael Angelo,
" Here lies Rome ! "
We went leisurely ; we seated ourselves upon the
moss-covered stones under the trees — eyes and ears and
all our senses occupied by the indescribable beauty and
life of the scene. We lingered long — I could have
lingered there for ever ! We were compelled, however,
to turn back — but not before we had seen the last of
the splendid Cascatellini fling itself down from the ruins
of the villa of Maecenas, and higher up had seen also
that of Catullus.
We dined at the Hotel a la Sibylle. We recommend
this Sibyl to all travellers who wish to have a good
dinner at a reasonable price, and advise them, as we
did, to season their dinner with foaming orvieto, which
is, according to our opinion, superior to champagne,
and a genuine aqua vitm.
The table was spread for our coffee by the temples of
Vesta and the Sibyl, which lie close together on the
edge of the rock. Below them flow the falls, with
their white foam. The temple of Vesta still retains its

THE SIBYLS. 191
beautiful circle of fluted columns, in excellent preser
vation. One can still see a portion of the cells, and
the place for the altar, on which the sacred fire was
kept burning. The Corinthian columns of the temple
of the Sibyl are now included in the wall of a little
Christian church, which is devoid of beauty. It would
have been better to have allowed them to stand or fall
in the rock beneath the lofty heaven from which the
Sibyl derived her inspiration. The temple of Vesta
and the sacred fire — which must be kept ever burning
there, guarded by sacred hands, in order that the life
of the state might continue happy and full of glory —
is an idea which is not lost to our time, though it may
not be fully accepted. That of the Sibyl is less
understood. The Sibyls of antiquity have become dark,
half mythical figures, spite of all which a father of the
Church, Lactantius, tells us about them. But tradition
and art present them, nevertheless, as ancient evidences
of woman's capacity for an immediate, inner con
templation of the highest truths, and of her courage in
expressing them. The Sibylline Books are burned, but
the declaration of the Sibyls, "God is one" and their pro
phecy of the judgment of the world, still sound to us,
down the long vista of dark, idolatrous antiquity, as
pure revelations, and their noble forms are immortalized
by deathless art.
A more beautiful or more worthy place of abode
than here, upon this rock, could not possibly be
assigned to the Vestals and the Sibyls ; and this air,
this life — do you lament, my R., that you are not able to
enjoy them, that you are not able to live upon this
glorious summit, with the whispering of woods and the
rushing of foaming waters around you, caressed by the
sun % Be comforted. " All is not gold that glitters,"
and this proverb comes to mind even here. The air is

1 92 ROCCA DI PAPA AND THE ROBBERS.
not always, is not often so good here, nor the summit so
sunny and calm. The air of Tivoli has but an
indifferent reputation, and rain and storm are there of
very general occurrence. A Roman proverb says —
"Tivoli di mal conforto
O piove, o tira vento, o suona a morto."
And I will tell you something. On the morning
when we drove to Tivoli we met a cart, in which were
seated two men of savage appearance, and with their
hands bound behind them. They were robbers,
regularly savage, murderous robbers, who had for a
long time ravaged and plundered in the hilly country,
and now at length were taken and carried in fetters to
Rome, accompanied by two gendarmes on horseback.
And look, do you see yonder, at the foot of the Alban
Mount, the tall round hill covered with a thick cluster
of houses ? That is Rocca di Papa, the Pope's Rock,
a regular nest of robbers; and strangers, it is said, can only
venture, at the risk of their lives, amongst its ruffianly
population of two thousand souls. They do not, how
ever, remain always confined to the rock, but are
scattered about over the country, seeking for then:
prey. We found our coffee in the temple of the Sibyl
remarkably good, the scene around incomparably lovely,
especially in the golden glory of the evening sun light,
but — it might be less agreeable to remain here for any
length of time in the neighbourhood of Rocca di
Papa. The full moon rose like a golden shield above the
Campagna as, in the tranquillity of evening, we drove
back to Rome.
April 5th. — The Holy Week, which, amongst people
of the Reformed Church, is called "the still week,"

HOLY WEEK. 193
and which is entirely devoted to the spiritual celebra
tion of a great and holy memory, is, in Catholic Rome,
the most troublesome and restless week of the whole
year. People have no time for religious worship, from
the ceaseless succession of religious festivals and cere
monies. The number and the crowding of foreigners
at these festivals contribute also very greatly to con
vert them into mere spectacles, as wearisome to the body
as they are little edifying to the soul.
The church festivals begin towards the close of Lent
with the blessing of the Golden Rose. This precious
symbol* of the spiritual life of the Church — the rose
of Sharon and the lily, it is called— which, together
with a sword and a hat, are annually blessed by the
Pope, on the fourth Sunday in Lent, and given occa
sionally by him to some prince or princess who has
rendered service to the Pontifical throne. In the year
1849 it was given to the Queen of Naples; since then
it has, I believe, been presented to the French Empress,
Eugenie. On any year when it happens not to be dis
posed of, it is put by for the next occasion.
After this comes Palm Sunday, when the Pope
blesses the palms ; then the three solemn masses with
Miserere, called Tenebrae, in the Sistine chapel. Thurs
day, mass in St. Peter's, and the Pope's benediction
of the people from the balcony of the church, after
which comes the Lavanda, then La Cena, and again the
Miserere. The Friday is not a holy day in Rome, as
with us. The shops are open; the people go about
their business as on other ordinary week-days ; there
are, nevertheless, solemn masses in the churches, the
* It cost two thousand scudi. It is not certain at what period
this ceremony was introduced, or what was the occasion of it,
but Leo IX. is mentioned as being the originator, about the
year 1000. — Author's note.
VOL. II. 0

194 PALM-SUNDAY.
exhibition of reliques, various symbolic ceremonies, and
the most solemn Miserere of all, in the Sistine chapel,
during the singing of which the light is extinguished,
so that there is a prevailing twilight — in commemo
ration of the darkness during the crucifixion on
Golgotha. Saturday is, comparatively, a day of rest. The fire
is blessed in the churches, and various illuminations
symbolic of the light which Christ brought into the
world. This ceremony is especially splendid in St,
Peter's. In the evening the chapel of St. Paul, in the
Vatican, blazes with thousands of candles — a really
magnificent illustration of the symbolical meaning just
mentioned. During the whole week there is great ascending of
La Scala Santa, on the knees ; priests distribute absolu
tion and blessing.* The churches and the officiating
priests are clothed in mourning, dark violet, until
Easter. Easter Sunday, and the day following, are
distinguished in Rome by a worldly pomp and splen
dour which are anything but edifying ; yet these days,
after all, are not without moments which are so.
Although I and my young friend were present at all
these festivals, we received the full impression merely
of two, partly because we saw the others imperfectly
or not at all, or because they were of that kind from
which no impression can be received. The festival of
Palm Sunday in St. Peter's, when the Pope is carried
out and in, as on Christmas-day, in great state, sur
rounded by his peacock's feathers — which seems to me
* The Penitentiary-General sits in St. Peter's Church, and
distributes penance and absolution by means of a long switch,
with which he gently touches the heads of such as kneel before
him to receive this kind of ecclesiastical punishment. — Atithor's note.

THE FEET-WASHING. 195
symbolical in its own way — was infinitely wearisome,
from its length and uniformity.
The Lavanda, the feet-washing, for instance, in the
transept of St. Peter's, I was not fortunate enough to
see properly, on account of the great throng in the
gallery, and from my dislike to crush in amongst the
ladies, who, on this occasion, were half wild and like
furies. Such of my countrymen as witnessed this cere
mony were delighted by the manner in which the
Pope performed it, and by his humble, mild expression.
The fact of the coarse fishermen, the Apostles of Christ,
being changed into twelve young priests clothed in
white, with very carefully washed feet; of the basin
which the Saviour used for the washing being now
transformed into a silver-gilt bowl, which a kneeling
priest holds for the use of his Holiness, as well as of
the washing, wiping and kissing of the disciples' feet,
being as easy and unsubstantial as possible, belongs to
the character of this spectacle, which is rather a parody
than a picture of its antitype in Jerusalem. The same
also was La Cena ; kneeling priests present to the Pope
meat upon a silver dish, which he places upon a table
before the guests, who have already satisfied their
hunger, but who have permission to take away what
they are not able to eat. The countenance of the
Pope during the whole of this ceremony, and his good-
humoured, kind expression, were admired by all. The
Pope's benediction of the people from the balcony of
St. Peter's, a scene which I witnessed perfectly, was
not without imposing solemnity ; but as this ceremony
is repeated with greater pomp on Easter Sunday, I
shall defer speaking of it till that occasion.
That which I shall never forget, that which I shall
always remember as a perception, however fleeting, of
heavenly mysteries, too profound and beautiful to be
0 2

196 THE MISERERE.
fully comprehended by the earthly mind, or to be
retained by a soul attached to the earth, is the Miserere
of Thursday, in the Sistine chapel. I was told it was
by Allegri.* What tones! what tones! — such music as
that I never heard before ; but it is true that I have
felt love and suffering, the desire of self-sacrifice and
the joy of self-sacrifice, which resembled these pene
trating tones ! The darkening of the church, during
the music, added, in no small degree, to the impression
on my mind, which lay entirely in the power of the
tones, in those spiritual depths which they revealed.
It would not be possible to linger long upon them
and live.
The throng and the fatigue subdued, however, the
feelings. No sooner, however, was the mass over, than
they were hurled out of the kingdom of heaven and
transformed into a corps de garde, by the rude beha
viour of the Swiss Guard to the auditors, in their offi
cious zeal to make room for Queen Maria Christina,
who, panting, and short of breath, and now looking
very ugly, staggered down the stairs.
Later in the day we saw the splendid illumination
in the chapel of St. Paul.
Easter Sunday. — The gallery erected for strangers in
St. Peter's was already filled, from seven to eight
o'clock in the morning. The ladies wore black dresses
and veils ; the whole church, however, had laid aside its
mourning array, and shone out in full splendour, as
did also the sun, which seems to smile on all the festi
vals of Rome. Ladies who arrive after eight o'clock
are obliged, spite of their entrance-cards, to stand or sit
upon the floor of the church. One sits or stands or
* The same which is said to have so greatly enraptured Mozart,
that when they ventured to let him see the notes, he was able,
during one night, to write it down perfectly from memory. — Au
thor's note.

THE PAPAL BENEDICTION. 197
waits till twelve o'clock, when the Pope first makes his
entrance, borne aloft as usual on men's shoulders, sur
rounded by peacocks' feathers, and wearing the papal
tiara, brilliant with gold and jewels.* The ceremonies
and the music appeared to me similar to those of
Christmas-day. The Pope, now as then, was robed and
disrobed ; his foot and his garments were kissed — in
cense was offered, bells were rung, and there was a great
ado ; the only difference being that everything now was
on a more pompous scale. The throng in the church
was immense, but very quiet. The French military
were arranged on both sides the whole length of
the nave. When the Pope elevated the host the whole
mass of people fell upon their knees, trumpets were
blown, and beautiful triumphal music sounded from the
cupola; and, as on Christmas -day, it was a moment of
the most elevating emotion.
After this the throng poured out of the church, to
receive the benediction of the Pope. We followed with
the stream. The French troops were drawn up in the
square before St. Peter's, in straight figures and lines ;
around these shone a variegated crowd of people in the
joyous sunshine. The showy red and white head
dresses of the country-people were adorned with
flowers. Every eye was directed to the balcony of St.
Peter's, which by degrees was filled with white-hooded
bishops, and all waited now to see the Pope come for
ward. In about twenty minutes he made his appear
ance, borne aloft above the white-headed bishops upon
his crimson throne, with his peacocks' feathers, and the
triple crown around his golden tiara ; and in an audible
voice he pronounced his benediction in the following
words, in Latin : —
* This probably was a present from the ex-Queen of Spain,
which is said to have cost 80 000 scudi. — Author's note.

198 INDULGENZA PLENARIA.
" May the Holy Apostles Peter and Paul, in whose
power and dominion we trust, pray for us to the Lord'!
Amen. "Through the prayers and merits of the blessed,
eternal Virgin Mary, of the blessed archangel Michael,
the blessed John the Baptist, the holy Apostles Peter
and Paul, and all saints — may the Almighty God have
mercy upon you, may your sins be forgiven you, and
may Jesu Christ lead you to eternal life. Amen.
"Indulgence, absolution and forgiveness of all sins —
time for true repentance, a continual penitent heart and
amendment of life, may the Almighty and merciful
God grant you these ! Amen.
" And may the blessing of the Almighty God, Fa
ther, Son, and Holy Spirit, descend upon you, and
remain with you for ever. Amen."
At the words et benedictio in the concluding sen-
tence, the Pope rose, made the sign of the cross over
the people, who fell upon their knees ; and at the word
descendat he lifted his arms to heaven, and laid them
cross-wise upon his breast.
Cannon thundered from the fortress of St. Angelo,
military music struck up, and all the bells of Rome
were rung ! The moment was not without its solemn
pomp. The Pope withdrew into St. Peter's, and the Cardi
nal-vicar threw down a large paper, which the people
hastened forward, endeavouring to catch. It- was a
written papal Indulgenza plenaria, for all such as during
Lent have fulfilled the conditions of this pardon. The
paper fell this time direct to the ground, and the boys
had a scramble for it.
To all this succeeded the endless confusion and dif
ficulty of getting home. The great number of Guards,
however, and the order which was maintained all the

WASHING THE FEET OF THE POOR. 199
way from St Peter's to the bridge of St. Angelo, and
even to the city, prevented any accident occurring. The
spectacle was splendid ; in particular, upon the above-
mentioned bridge across the Tiber, which lay calm as a
mirror, gleaming in the sunshine, I have never seen
in any city, or any festival, such a vast magnificence of
equipages and liveries. The carriages of the Cardinals
are distinguished above all others by their gilding and
their magnificent horses. Nevertheless, the festival
which was now being celebrated was in commemoration
of Him who said, " My kingdom is not of this world ! "
But who now thinks of that ? The vast crowd were
here to behold the great splendour, to behold the Pope
in his triple crown blessing the people.
In the afternoon I went to the Coliseum, where I
heard a Capuchin monk preach about the spiritual re
surrection, and that in so truly an evangelical and po
pular a manner, as was a pleasure to hear. Afterwards
people went in procession, la via Cruris. I met many
pilgrims going from church to church to perform their
devotions.* During the whole of this week they are
frequently met with in the streets of Rome.
* The feet- washing belongs to the spectacles of the holy week
in Rome. In the year of Jubilee they come in great numbers,
mostly of the lower class, to the papal capital, where they are re
ceived and entertained in houses established for the purpose, and
where religious societies, (confraternita,) in which many persons of
high rank are enrolled, who come to wash their feet and to wait upon
them. I visited one evening a house of this kind, devoted to wo
men. Long tables were covered with a frugal meal. Young
ladies, in a somewhat showy costume, which, however, was very
becoming, waited upon them, as if in sport. Things were more
serious in the feet-washing-room. Handsome signoras were there
tending with affectionate care coarse, ill-clad women. " Is it the
proper warmth, my sister ? " inquired a young " principessa,"
from an old woman, before whom she knelt, whilst she washed her
feet. — Author's note.

200 ILLUMINATION OF ST. PETER'S.
In the evening we beheld from the balcony of Rudolf
Lehman, on LaRipetta, a peculiar and never-to-be-forgot
ten sight. At our feet lay the Tiber, in the calm waters of
which the stars were reflected. From the opposite bank
extended the open plain, without houses or trees, which
could impair the view; on the left rose a dark shadow, the
gloomy fortress of St. Angelo — the ancient mausoleum
of Hadrian — where red light gleamed, and instrumental
music sounded in the air ; but the eye did not linger
on the Tiber or the fortress of St. Angelo, it was occu
pied from the first moment by a wonderful, enchanting
sight. In the distance rose up from the desolate Cam
pagna — which in the darkness of evening resembled an
immense vacuum — a gigantic monument, so, at least,
it appeared to me, the whole circumference of which,
colonnade, facade, and giant dome, were traced out in
bright silver flames. The harmony and regularity of
these silver lines was perfect. Quickly burning with
the softest light, the beautiful temple, standing on the
dark earth, and seen against the dark blue sky back
ground, produced an indescribable effect, beautiful and
solemn at the same time. It was a sight which drew
tears from my eyes, I know not whether more of joy
or of emotion ; but even this emotion had its pleasure.
The church had stood thus for about an hour, burn
ing in silver glory, when — at a given sign, a change
took place. In a moment, millions of golden flames
darted forth over the dome and the facade, first, as if
in chaotic confusion, but soon arranging themselves
into regular cruciform flowers of burning gold. In the
dazzling splendour of these the pure outlines of silver
flame vanished, and the whole church seemed to gleam
forth in golden fire. An audible exclamation of joy
-reached us from the side of the Vatican, music sounded,
and all the bells rang. The pleasant freshness of the

DRIVING OUT OF SATAN. 201
evening air ; the undisturbed peace in which we were
able, from Mr. Lehman's balcony, to contemplate the
spectacle ; the Tiber, with its clear star reflections, and,
on the horizon, St. Peter's brilliant church — the great
monument of art and nature; the small, but agreeable,
circle within the room ; and, not the least, the artist
himself and his pictures — all contributed to make this
evening one of the richest to me in enjoyment in
Rome. Of the many symbolical spectacles which the
holy week affords, the illumination of St. Peter's
appears to me the only one which is perfectly beautiful
and pure, as well as intelligible to all.
Three hundred and sixty men, it is said, are re
quired in this illumination, which is not without danger.
On the second day of Easter I was present, by the
invitation of Madame  , at the ceremony of the
initiation into the Catholic Church of the young Eng
lish lady N. H., in the convent of the Sacre Cour de
Trinita di Monte. Monsignore L  performed the
rite, with great circumstance and much ceremony.
Satan was conjured many times to " depart out of this
young person, and to give God the glory;" he was
especially conjured to depart out of every portion of
her body, which was with that touched and crossed by
the priest with the thumb, moistened first with saliva,
then with holy oil : eyes, ears, nostrils, forehead, mouth,
shoulders, breast, back, and so on, were signed with
the cross in this manner, to drive out Satan. Every
thing which came in contact with the newly-converted,
even the salt which was laid upon her lips, underwent
the same conjuration and blessing. This seemed to me
petty and childish, though I acknowledge the im
portance of that which it symbolises, namely, that true
religion (according to the meaning of the Catholic
Church) will consecrate everything in and around the

202 THE LEADING-STRINGS OF THE CHURCH.
human being to God's service. The words of abjura
tion, in which the young girl renounced the faith of her
fathers, were remarkably forcible: —
"I abhor and renounce the errors and heresies in
which I have been brought up, and which have
separated me from the only sacred, saving Catholic
Church." She then vowed, according to the formula, that she
would, in the first place, " believe in the infallibility of
the Roman Catholic Church, in the Immaculate Con
ception of the Virgin, in the worship of her saints and
the power of their intercessions, in the fire of purga
tory, and, finally, in the Saviour Jesus Christ and His
eternally sufficing atonement'for us with God." " The
true faith," taught Monsignore L  , "consists in this,
that we ought to worship in the Trinity a one God,
and in the Unity a Trinity, without confounding the
persons, and without separating the substance ; because
the person of the Father is one, the person of the Son
is one, and the person of the Holy Ghost is one, but
in these Three is one substance and one Divinity."
The many repetitions of the prayers, the exhorta
tions, and the conjurations, rendered the ceremony
long and wearisome. I was particularly struck with
the symbolism of the circumstance, when the young,
newly-baptized — for she also underwent the rite of
baptism anew — was led by the priest into the church,
she holding fast by a broad scarf, which he wore round
his neck. Yes, she had given up the evangelical liberty,
in which the human being is alone led by the Lord, to
be guided by the leading-strings of the priest and the
priesthood ; for, according to the Roman Catholic doc
trine, the priesthood constitutes the Church. She had
gone back from the church of an independent manhood
to that of the child not yet of age ; but — perhaps she

A YOUNG ENGLISH CONVERT. 203
was one of those who require this latter means of help
to support them in the conflict with evil. Confession,
and a good, true, Christian Father-confessor, evidently
constitute an important means for this purpose.
"A good Father-confessor" — yes, it depends upon
that. The honest avowal of the Catholic Christian, as
that of Madame Guion and Madame Dudevant (George
Sand) has shown us that the Father-confessor may be
as often injurious as profitable.
By the side of the young girl stood, during the
ceremony, in quality of godmother, the Marchioness
of Grammont, once Princess of Baden, an elderly lady,
with traces of great beauty, and with much natural
dignity of manner. The young girl, who was very
pretty, but whose countenance showed more of intellect
and cleverness than feeling, had caused much grief to
her Protestant parents, resident in Paris, by her con
version to the Catholic Church; but this was of no
consequence. There was a gread deal that was beautiful and Chris
tian in the exhortations of Monsignore L  , but still
that could not disguise from me the unchristian part of
this abjuration, and the erroneous conception of the
Christian Church upon which it is based.
When the ceremony was over the seven or eight
persons who were present congratulated her " who had
returned to the bosom of the Church," as the phrase
was. After which the noble Marchioness and some
other persons came up to me, and expressed the hope
that I also should soon become a member of the only
saving Church. I replied that "I hoped to increase in
a knowledge of the truth," leaving them to guess what
I meant thereby.
The evening of this day had nearly been tragical for
me and my young friend. We were going, with the

204 WE ARE IN DANGER.
whole world of Rome, to see from the Piazza del
Popolo, La Girandola, or the grand fireworks, which,
according to a design of Michael Angelo's, are displayed
annually on Monte Pincio, whence, as far as the square,
people have been employed for the last two weeks in
erecting various mysterious-looking stages. We had
received tickets from Monsignore Laschiavo, which
would admit us to a gallery just opposite, and a young
Norwegian countryman was to accompany us. Every
thing seemed arranged in the best possible manner.
A mistake in the hour, however, caused our young
friend to be after his time, and Jenny and I therefore
went to the place alone. Finding the gallery already
occupied, we got into a passage, whence there was no
exit, between the wall and the gallery, and which was
becoming more and more thronged with people, who
crushed through the Guard, and believed, like ourselves,
that they could here find room. The press, however,
soon became terrific, and increased every moment, so
that movement was no longer possible — we were crushed
and even lifted from our feet by the urgent crowd,
which, like a flock of sheep, blindly thrust themselves
together. Jenny became separated from me — I could
no longer see her — and there was a smell as of burning
clothes. I uttered a cry, with the design of making the
Guard aware of the irrational crowding into this cul
de sac ; but my cry was lost in the noise of the
throng. Never since my excursion across the Mer de
Glace with Louise C  , on Chamouni, have I experi
enced such anxiety as I did now. At that moment I
heard a manly voice exclaim in French : —
"Mademoiselle pleure! Qu'est-il arrive"! Qu'est-ce
quil-y-a ? "
Jenny in a fit of hysterical weeping leant against the
shoulder of a stout gentleman, who good-naturedly let

FRENCH POLITENESS. 205
her support herself in this manner, and in the mean
time roused the attention of the commander of the
Guard. I now perceived him, and saw her also at no
great distance from me. I besought of him to protect
us, to obtain for us breathing room, and, if possible, to
aid us in leaving this place. Now for the first time he
became aware how the people from without were crowd
ing into this passage where there was no exit, and
caused a crush which most certainly would in some,
minutes have placed many in peril of their lives. He
immediately commanded the soldiers, who were French,
to clear the passage forcibly, and compel the advancing
stream to turn back.
In a moment we had breathing room, and a few
minutes afterwards were able to move and think about
escaping from the trap. The French officer, after
having defended us from the press, conducted us with
the greatest kindness and politeness out of the disagree
able passage; the French soldiers also assisted us
kindly and politely down the flight of steps, and thus
we at length reached an open place, where in perfect
ease we were able to see 'the fireworks extremely
well. When our deliverer left us in order to return to his
post, I besought him to let us know his name ; and if
M. Louis Gerard should by chance hear of this my
narrative I beg of him to accept once more in these
pages a cordial acknowledgment of the chivalric
politeness, the manly kindness, with which he behaved
in protecting two solitary ladies, who were totally
unknown to him.
We were now able in perfect peace and freedom to
witness the magnificent fireworks, the fiery dragons
and rockets of which rushed above the square. Jenny
no longer wept, but laughed at herself and everything.

206 THE FIREWORKS ON MONTE PINCIO.
I on the contrary felt myself again ready to weep, and
the splendid suns and scenery of the fireworks could
not prevent my feeling the effect of the anxiety through
which I had just passed. But then I had suffered
anxiety for two.
The fireworks were amongst the most splendid I had
ever seen, and succeeded in all respects, except in the
illumination of the great cross erected on Monte
Pincio, above the church, with the Pope's tiara and
arms. This cross was only partially lit up, and the
burning portions soon went out, and sparks fell down
like ashes. It then looked dark, and as it were
threatening above, the church blazing with the ponti
fical insignia, around which swarmed innumerable
comets, suns, and rushing dragons with long tails of
fire, and — ashes. The people on the Piazza del Popolo
behaved, as they always do in Rome, quietly and
peaceably. Neither were they Italians who pressed so
rudely forward in the passage of the gallery — their
educazione would have prevented their doing so — they
were for the most part foreigners, and, as I believe,
young Englishmen, with their ladies senza educazione.
When the fireworks were over the crowd dispersed like
the waters of a quiet stream.
How pleasant it is again to find oneself at peace in a
tranquil home; and it was pleasant also that Monsignore
Laschiavo came and helped to dissipate the effect of
the afternoon's disagreeable adventure, by his descrip
tions of Calabria and its earthquakes. He sympathized,
however, very warmly in our misadventures ; he had in
vain looked out for us in the gallery, with the intention
of securing for us a good place.
That was yesterday ; and to-day (April 6th,) I am
alone in my Roman home. The good, young girl, who
has made this winter beautiful to me, has this morning,

THE APPROACHING CONFLICT. 207
in company with our young countryman, Baron Nor-
denfalks, r%turned to her northern home and to her
relatives. Her life's romance will soon commence there,
an important chapter.
They are also in my Swiss home by " the living
waters" making ready for a wedding, and the prepa
rations are worthy of the pure earnestness, the Idyllian
beauty and peace of the Swiss home. How fresh are
those valleys !
Whilst my young sisters are making ready for the
joyous festival of life, I am myself looking forward to a
conflict which has been for some time silently preparing,
in the manner which I will now relate.
One day — I believe it was in January — Madame
de M  took me a drive in the park of the Villa
Borghese where, unfortunately, our conversation turn
ing upon Luther, Madame de M  made use of
the expression " That Luther, who misled so many
souls ! " I added, " The honest, the truth-loving Luther,
who led them to the knowledge of God's Word ! " In this
spirit of contradiction we paused, and I saw no more of
Madame de M  for several weeks. A coolness had
come between us.
Resolved in all things and with all my acquaintance
to be in every respect honest and true, I made no
effort to regain the friendly good-will of any one, the
basis of which was religious zeal to which I could not
respond. But the spring came, and with it my country
woman. The Grand-duchess Helena again brought us
together unexpectedly. Again Madame de M 
spoke of the wealth of the Catholic doctrines, and again
I listened willingly to the expression of her pure happi
ness, and wished to hear still more regarding certain of
those doctrines which had been so blessed to her. I
consented, therefore, to see and to converse with the

208 CONTROVERSY COMMENCES.
prelate Monsignore L  , whom I afterwards found to
be a man of much erudition, agreeable manners, and
refinement, though on the all-important subject we
were but little agreed.
He, like all other Catholic prelates — Cardinal Wise
man in London amongst the rest — commences with the
supposition that the unlearned — that is to say, people
in general — cannot possibly understand the Holy Scrip
tures, excepting through the intervention and interpre
tation of the Church. In reply to this, I told him of
the peasants in the high valleys of Switzerland, and
amongst the Waldenses, of Pere Ansermey, of Emanuel
Isabel, of Edith Marmillon on her sick bed : of those
congregations of unlearned mountaineers, who, without
any teachers, govern themselves by the light of the
Holy Scriptures, and in so doing find their highest joy.
Occasionally the concession would be extorted from
the Catholic Monsignore that " possibly the Protestant
Christian might be saved, but scarcely, and with great
pains." Sometimes I would take the initiative, and
attack certain usages of the Catholic Church, which
stand in open opposition to the custom and teaching
of the Apostolic Church ; for example, why has the
Catholic Church abandoned the original institution of
the Holy Communion of the bread and wine ? Why
do the Catholic priests retain the wine for themselves
alone, without allowing the layman to have any part
thereof? " You know," replied Monsignore L  , " that in
ancient times abuses easily crept in with the use of
wine in the Holy Communion, and besides, wine is not
easily obtained in many countries."
" I know it, Monsignore," I answered, "because wine
is not produced in my northern native land, and the
people are poor rather than rich. Nevertheless, wine

MANY CONVERTS TO CATHOLICISM. 209
never fails, even for the very poorest, at the comme
moration festival of the Lord."
— But it would be extending the subject too far to
enumerate all the points which came under our dis
cussion, and on which we differed. Persons, such as
Madame de M  and the tall, enthusiastic nun of
the Sacr6 Cceur, give me a stronger feeling of the
peculiar advantages of Catholicism than these learned
prelates. During Lent the French sermons in San Luigi de
Francesi commenced ; in the first place, by a French
preacher, whose name was St. Paul, and afterwards by
the Carmelite monk, Marie Louis. The former had
talent and zeal, but no gifts in comparison with the
latter. The former was a fervent and castigating
preacher, who zealously enforced general confession.
"The fully accomplished duty of honest confession
was," he asserted, " sufficient for the sanctification of
the world." He was also a zealous advocate of the
holy obligation of missionary labour. " Protestant
Christians," he exclaimed, "give annually forty mil
lions of francs for this work — and Catholic laymen,
oh shame! only four!" The white foam flew around
his lips in his fervour as he preached.
The Carmelite monk spoke in a calmer strain; he
violated no sense of beauty even during his most fervent
effusions ; his voice, his words, his look found their way
to the soul. They seemed to proceed from the depths
of the soul, as the natural expression of its life.
Many conversions to Catholicism occurred in Rome
at this time. An American lady, of a Quaker family,
and belonging to the highest society in Boston, may be
mentioned amongst them., I had known this lovely
and intellectual woman during my residence in Boston,
and seen her as one of the ornaments of its social
VOL. II. P

210 AN AMERICAN CONVERT.
circles. I saw her again in Rome, found her enrap
tured by the eloquence of the Carmelite monk, enrap
tured by all the beauty and poetry wherewith the
Catholic Church adorns its apparent unity. She drew
comparison between this and the bald nakedness of the
Friends' meeting-houses and the Unitarian churches;
she remarked what a contrast between the splitting-up
of the churches in her native land and the imposing
unity of the Catholic Church ; she compared the dog
matical rigidity which prevailed amongst some of the
religious teachers there with the winning, insinuating
manners of the Catholic prelates. Ill health had led
her to seek its restoration in the south of Europe ; ill
health had excited her sensibility; she needed nourish
ment, unity, harmony for her soul, and she fancied that
she should find in the Catholic Church all that which
she had hitherto been seeking for in the dark.
I found her more dazzled by the Catholic ecclesias
tical life than clear regarding its relationship to the
Spirit. I besought her, after a long and earnest con
versation, still to wait, still to reflect, before she gave
in her adhesion to the Catholic faith. It was too late.
She had already done so, but with the utmost quiet
ness. Monsignore L  had admitted her into the
papal church. She had now written on the subject to
her husband and to her mother, and she knew that so
doing she should cause them great sorrow. Never
theless, she felt herself supremely happy in the new
world which she had entered ; she seemed to herself as
if borne on the wings of angels. I listened to her with
astonishment and with deep sympathy. There was in
this soul so much humility, such a pure impulse, such
good-will in seeking only for God and His truth, that
it was impossible for me to doubt of her conversion
being in some measure the work of the Eternal Truth,

I SHALL GO INTO RETRAITE. 211
for which she sought, and which she now merely saw
too exclusively in one certain form. But the language
of polemics died upon my lips.
"You will teach the proud Protestants," I said to
her, " how much truth and beauty exists in the Catholic
faith ; and God will teach you to see the Eternal Truth
in the belief and church of your fathers, the church of
the pilgrim-fathers, upon the foundation of which the
New World built and still builds its power. In the
love of Christ the two churches are one. True
Christians in both of them will teach them the better
to understand each other."
Such were my parting words to the amiable American
lady, whom I never felt nearer to me than at the
moment when we — in our ecclesiastical faith — were
separated for ever.
This meeting, however, together with the renewed
admonitions of Madame de M  and Soeur Gene
vieve — for so I will call the proselytizing nun of Sacre
Cceur — that during a retraite in this convent I would be
come thoroughly acquainted with the Catholic doctrines
and the requirements of my own soul, at the same time
caused me to determine on making this retraite. It was
evident to me that I never could have a better oppor
tunity of clearly testing, not only the principles of the
Catholic, as of the Protestant Church, and of making
fully clear to myself the respective merits and failings
of both, and that such an occasion I ought not to de
spise. I have candidly told my kind Catholic friends
that I shall not be converted to the Catholic faith, but
that, desiring to obtain more enlightenment on various
of their doctrines, I shall be obliged to them, that is to
say, my friends, if they will aid in this matter. The
thing is now therefore decided, and as soon as I have
paid sundry visits, and have arranged my small worldly
p2

212 SffiUR GENEVIEVE.
affairs, I enter, for an undetermined period, the convent
Sacre Cceur, where Soeur Genevieve will become my
instructress, and Pere Marie Louis, the Carmelite monk,
my spiritual teacher.
When I leave the convent I shall not return hither
to my house on the Corso, but take up my abode on the
Capitoline Hill, where I have engaged rooms for my
self. " You'll be converted to Catholicism ! " says every
one, with a shake of the head, to whom I have commu
nicated my retraite — " these priests are so cunning ! "
I reply, " No, I shall not ; but I shall be the better
able to understand both the differences and the points
of union of the two creeds."
To others of my acquaintance who ask where I am
going, I reply indifferently, Casa Tarpeia, Albano,
Naples, every place where I am intending to go, with
out stating the exact time ; and thus I hope, without
exciting any attention, to pass through the trial of my
faith in the convent.
Sacre Cceur, Trinita di Monte, April \4th. — And now I
am here, in this so-called Retraite, but which is consi
derably more like a battle than a quiet life, devoted to
serious reflection, exposed as I am, morning, noon, and
night, to the fervent zeal and the torrent-like eloquence of
Sister Genevieve, regarding my conversionto "the only
true church ; " whilst, in the meantime, my forenoons are
occupied with the "Exercises" of Ignatius Loyola, which
she allows me to go through. It would most assuredly
be less difficult to pass through ordeals by fire and wa
ter than a continued ordeal of talk. Hence, I cut a
poor figure in this, and often grow impatient, especially
in the evening, when Soeur Genevieve's fervour of con
version increases sometimes to an actual storm, and oc
casions a tumult in my brain, in comparison with which

CONTROVERSY WITH PERE MARIE LOUIS. 213
that of the Corso and the Carnival is nothing. The re
sult of this is, that hitherto I have found myself every
evening more and more Protestant, and have resolved,
the following morning, to leave the convent for ever.
In the morning, however, I find my courage again re
newed, and think that I ought still to remain. And I
do so accordingly.
The second part of the trial, and that which properly
keeps me here, consists, on the contrary, in acontest which
both interests andamuses me. Itisacontroversy with the
bare-footed Carmelite monk, Pere Marie Louis, who
comes every afternoon, and converses with me for two
or three hours, sometimes longer ; so far from my being
fatigued, I feel rather enlivened by the discussion. His
solid erudition (he has given up a professorship in one
of the southern towns of France, whilst still young — he
appears not much above thirty — that he may enter the
Carmelite order), his acute reasoning powers, his un
mistakable piety, his unruffled calmness and moderation
during controversy, united with the natural esprit of
the Frenchman, make discussion with him both in
structive and agreeable. He himself seems amused by
it, as well as I do, and it seems to concentrate more
and more decidedly around two main points, namely,
the infallibility of the Catholic Church, and the right it
thence derives to decide upon that which must be believed
and taught, and the ability of the human being to per
ceive of himself, and to comprehend, the Divine eternal
truth. He asserts the former, and denies the latter — I
deny the former, and assert the latter. And the con
versation, with each succeeding day, goes still deeper
into the ground of the questions. We each express
our opinions without reserve, and I feel that he is per
fectly candid, and, like myself, alone wishful to discover
the truth.

214 THE ABJURATION OF EDITH H-

Above the writing-table, in my large and light room,
with its view into the garden of the convent, hangs a
beautiful portrait of Ignatius Loyola, with its fatally
cunning expression, precisely the true Jesuit, as the
Protestants conceive the character — and below this por
trait I write, read, and make extracts from the great
number of books which the kind Soeur Genevieve daily '
brings me, and from which I in great measure derive
my knowledge of the doctrines of the Catholic Church,
especially iromLe Catechisme du Concile de Trente. There,
also, she reads to me Loyola's "Exercises," which contain
some very good and wholesome discipline for the mind,
and some also of a very childish and mechanical cha
racter — as, for instance, to hold the breath some minutes
between every several section of the Lord's Prayer.
Even Soeur Genevieve rejects these puerilities, but it is
evident to me, however, that she has hitherto had only
to do with children in mind — nay, that she herself is
siich a one. Hence her stories of absurd miracles,
hence the importance which she gives to receiving the
absolution of the Romish Church on the death-bed, as an
infallible passport to heaven ; and the importance which,
for the same purpose, she attaches to the daily repeti
tion of every prayer through the rosary.
This morning the young English lady, Edith H  ,
renounced the Protestant faith in the little chapel, Mater
Admirabilis, and adopted that of the Catholic Church, to
which she was baptised anew. The English Cardinal,
Monsignore Talbot, who has the appearance of a man of
the flesh rather than thatof the Spirit, performed the cere
mony in a simple and brief manner, very unlike that in
which Monsignore L  conducted it on the, occasion of
the elder sister's entrance into the Catholic Church. The
form of the renunciation was, however, the same now as
then. The newly converted " hates and renounces all

INCENTIVES TO CONVERSION. 215
the errors of her former belief," and promises, in the
first place, faith and obedience to the doctrines and com
mands of the infallible Roman Church, especially as they
are expressed by the Council of Trent ; finally, she
promises to believe in Jesus Christ. " The Church first,
then the Saviour " — such is the doctrine of the Roman
Catholic Church.
Cardinal Talbot held a somewhat longer discourse,
in which he displayed both talent and energy, but
what injustice to the Reformed Church ! — what dis
torted, narrow views of faith and the essence of Chris
tianity ! One might have believed that they were
merely certain dogmas and forms epitomized ! When
the speaker, with his eyes raised ' to heaven, lamented
his " unfortunate father-land England, as having re
nounced the truth and sunk into depths of error," I
involuntarily fixed upon him a sternly protesting glance,
of which I believe he was aware, because he looked
again and again inquiringly towards the part of the
chapel where I, as well as all the others, were kneeling.
I am told here every day of persons of consequence
in England, Germany, and other countries, who have
been converted from the Protestant to the Roman
Catholic Church ; they wish to entice me to follow
their example, and therefore spare neither flatteries nor
other means of persuasion. Many converts, I believe,
are attracted to Catholicism by some beautiful doctrines
which it has preserved, and which the Protestant Church
has rejected ; many also are imposed upon by the ap
parent stability of the Catholic Church, whilst the
Protestant Church also apparently is falling to pieces.
They are besides imposed upon by the positive tone
and the security of many Catholics ; and for the rest, as
a new convert said to me, " it is so convenient to avoid
beating one's brains in the search after truth, and to be

216 I CANNOT BE CONVERTED.
able to leave all solicitude on this score to others, and
to believe on their word."
l"es, it may be well enough for all such as love con
venience ; but for them who love the truth ?
"I do not know of any Christian Church!" ex
claimed Soeur Genevieve yesterday, in her fervour
against me, who had used this expression — "I know
only the Catholic, for it is the only true Church ! "
April \6th. — Soeur Genevieve is really a good wo
man, and has such a burning zeal that I believe she
would be willing to die if she could convert me to " the
only saving Church ; " and the truth is, that in so doing
— according to the Catholic teaching — she would have
acquired for herself an immortal rank in the kingdom
of heaven. But her enthusiastic character leads her
to forget both sense and moderation. Every time she
enters my room, especially in the evening, I am obliged
to prepare myself for a regular storm. She talks in
cessantly ; does not listen to what I reply, or does not
trouble herself about it ; argues, declaims, exhorts,
conjures, and prophesies my exaltation, which would
be " colossal " if I would but be converted to the Ca
tholic Church, and bend my knee in confession to a
priest ! — or my humiliation, which will be that of pure
"annihilation," perfect "reprobation," if I reject the
grace which is now offered to me, and persevere in my
errors. The Pope himself has said that I might be
come a Saint Brigitta for my country ! "
And they think that with reasoning of this kind
they can move me. They attribute my obstinate wicked
will to pride, to selfishness, to the devil ; whilst I feel
even more and more clearly that it is our Lord himself,
in His revelation of the light and the liberty of the
Gospel. There are, nevertheless, two subjects on which
I should like to hear Soeur Genevieve speak : these are,

SAVING DOCTRINES OF THE ROMISH CHURCH. 217
the doctrine of purgatory, and the uninterrupted con
nection with the departed — those whom we call the
dead — doctrines which, when they are divested of their
childish forms, constitute the requirements of every
feeling, thinking human soul, and of which the most
ancient traditions, and the paintings in the Catacombs,
testify ; and which I believe that all persons with heads
and hearts secretly believe in, when their spirits are not
fettered in the prison-house of certain dogmatical doc
trines. They seem to me so important, both for life
and consciousness, that they alone might attract souls
into the Church which retains them, from that which
has rejected them, if one looked exclusively at them,
and did not feel oneself able to receive them into a
higher Church, the Church of Christ, the Church of
the eternal Comforter, in spirit and in truth.
Judge for yourself, my R. ! You have a child, a dear
relative, or friend. The beloved one dies, and dies in
a state of the soul which most assuredly would exclude
him from the communion of the saints, and from
heaven. Are you for ever separated from him? Is
there nothing, nothing more which you can do for him?
With all your love, with all your ardent longing, is
there nothing you can do for his eternal well-being?
" Yes," says the Catholic doctrine, " there is ! Your
prayers, your actions may follow him, with elevating,
saving power, even into the dark realms of space whither
he (or she) is gone. You are not spiritually sundered.
You may for ever live for him, as he for you ! "
Precious doctrine ! which needs only to be divested .
of the dead or mechanical forms which the Catholic
Church during the lapse of centuries has invested it, to
become one with the innermost life and doctrine of the
Gospel. For it is not masses for the soul, thoughtlessly
read by indifferent priests, even though they be read

218 PRAYERS FOR THE DEAD.
for centuries, which can operate savingly for that soul
which is dear to you, but your own life filled with
prayer and deeds of love to his memory or for his sake.
And He who promised one day " to make him ruler
over much who has been faithful in the little," He will
give you power and opportunity, according to the
ability which you possess to work for the soul you love.
This belongs to the order of God's spiritual world.
Men — the individual or generations — are eternally
bound together, as well here as hereafter. The circum
stance of death cannot dissolve the spiritual bond.
They who are gone before work for us and we for
them, in good or in evil, as we are united to or sepa
rated from the fountain of eternal life. It cannot be
otherwise. And how much more important, how much
more beautiful and complete, our life here on earth be
comes when we comprehend its relationship not merely
with the future but also with departed generations.
It is likewise a requirement of a sense of justice and
sound reason that an intermediate state and an in
termediate time should be afforded for the millions of
imperfect souls who leave this earth before their final
dwellings are decided as a consequence of their actions
here. The most ancient dogmas of the human race
have accepted this belief, and Christianity has not con
tradicted this or other doctrines which proceed from
time immemorial out of the depths of human conscious
ness. Christianity has taught us to know God the im
perishable life of our own being, and the inability of
death to destroy it. On this we needed enlightenment,
and that is enough.
The doctrine of Indulgences, on which I found an
inexplicable chaos of opinions — amongst which Catholics
themselves held the most opposite— may have truth for
its basis, in so far that the eternal, Universal Church —

INFLUENCES OF TOE HOLY SPIRIT. 219
but which is not the Pontifical! — has the right to
deliver the repentant sinner from punishment, the right
to give him power also to effect the deliverance of
others. This, also, is a spiritual law of nature, because
it is a law of justice and love. The Roman Catholic
Church, however, has changed this doctrine of spirit
and truth to a dead mechanism, an arbitrary system of
pardon, wholly unconnected with moral and spiritual
order. Nor is this to be wondered at, when even its
idea of the Church has become a petrifaction ; for,
according to this idea, it is not they who are living in
the spirit of Christ who constitute the Church, but they
who, by means of Papal sanction and the laying on of
priestly hands, are consecrated thereto. Thus the Pope
consecrates the Cardinals, and these, again, every new
Pope, even though they be monsters, such as Alex
ander II., and his worthy son, the Cardinal Cassar
Borgia! — and they then receive the Holy Ghost, and
power " to bind and to loose !"
"But it was not to such men as these that Christ
gave the power," I have said many a time during my
warfare with the Catholics; "it was to His apostles, men
who lived in Him, loved Him, obeyed and followed
Him, men who were in themselves participant of His
life and His spirit ; such can only constitute His Church,
such only can receive the Holy Spirit, and, with it, the
right, in Christ's stead, to bind and to loose !"
"That which constitutes precisely the excellence of
our Church," it is replied to me, " is that the individual
persons are of so little consequence. The Holy Spirit
does not inquire after the person, it is communicated to
an Alexander VI., also to a Caesar Borgia, at the
moment they may resolve upon dogmas of faith, and
converts them into organs of the truth, even though
they themselves may afterwards have to be burned in
hell for their actions !"

220 SG3UR GENEVIEVE PROPHESIES.
" In order to dissipate your doubts on this subject,"
said Monsignore L — — on one occasion to me, "I
must tell you that the Pope is by no means the sole ori
ginator, or is alone responsible, for the resolutions which
proceed from him in matters of faith ; they are pre
pared by from twenty to thirty persons, whom you
would seek for in vain; they are scattered in con
vents, or are members of holy orders, are distin
guished by their learning and acuteness of intellect,
for their knowledge of ecclesiastical traditions and old
customs ; they it is who prepare the transactions, which
are afterwards received by the Papal council, and which
the Pope usually merely signs !"
If it be so, and I have no doubt on the subject, then
it appears to me that the Pope's position and outward
consideration is a piece of actual charlatanry.*
Last evening the prophetic spirit fell upon Soeur
Genevifeve — under the influence of which, drawing her
self up to her full height, she, with upraised arms, fore
told the fall of the temporal power of the Pope, war,
bloodshed, and great revolutions, but out of which the
Catholic Church shall come forth renovated, victorious,
poor, but holy and powerful as in the early times."
If Soeur Genevieve had not been a nun, she would
unquestionably have been a great actress. High praise
i3 due to her, when it is recollected that she has, whilst
still young, handsome, eloquent, gifted with talents,
* As regards this consideration, very different opinions prevail, even
amongst Catholics themselves. Some assert that he is not infal
lible except— as the expression is — ex cathedra, or when he is at
the head of the general council. Soeur Genevieve preaches this
doctrine. Others again, and the great unlearned multitude, are
inclined to attribute to him alone, " as the representative of Jesus
Christ," absolute inspiration and infallibility in questions of faith ;
and I suspect that he himself is inclined to take this view, which
is the most convenient for him. —Author's note.

DIFFERENCES WITH PERE MARIE LOUIS. 221
and beloved by the world, chosen, nevertheless, the
portion of poverty and lowliness. She extols the con
dition of the Catholic Church in France as far superior
to that of Rome.
My conversations 'with the Carmelite monk are, in
comparison with those with Seeur Genevieve, as a clear,
tranquil stream with a rushing cataract; and they always
afford me pleasure, although they still more plainly
make it evident that we shall never agree on the main
points, because he adheres steadfastly to the belief that
there can be no calmness and no security for such as
disavow the authority of the Catholic Church. I, on
the contrary, maintain that that which led him to
accept it is the same inner, free choice which he dis
allows in me, when it causes me to disavow this autho
rity of the outward. But the difference is, that I go
further than he, and that I will not ground my faith
upon an authority which is contrary to my rational
conscience. I believe on God in Christ, because my
rational conscience bids me to do so, since I have
learned in the Holy Scriptures to know Him and the
tenor of His revelation.
"Your principle," I say to him, "condemns your
spirit to a state of stagnation, nay, to a contradiction
of yourself. If your reason and your conscience tell
you that a certain dogma adopted at the ecclesiastical
assembly of Trent is not in accordance with the doc
trine of Christ, with justice, and with equity — as, for
example, as is contained in the catechism of the Romish
Church — that the children which die before they have
received baptism are excluded for ever from the joys of
heaven — a doctrine which caused Dante to give the
terrible picture of a twilight realm, where was heard
the eternal lamenting and weeping of children, " weep
ing without suffering," says he, but yet more terrible

222 WE ARGUE ON THE TRUTH.
to think of ! If, I say, your understanding, enlightened
by the love of Christ, should point out to you the irra
tionality, nay, the impiety of such a doctrine, you would
not be able to reject it, would not be able to think that
this ecclesiastical assembly of three hundred years ago,
may not have been in error !"
" It could not have been in error ; it is I who must
be in the wrong !" says Pere Marie Louis ; " the human
reason, the human heart, is full of error."
"There are, however, certain great points of agree
ment amongst all people and in all times. They have
accepted Christianity ; and Christ has promised His
Spirit to every one who loves Him and follows His
commandments. G0<i ^as given an eye for His truth."
" But it is darkened," replies Pere Marie Louis ; " we
require an outward institution, an outward canon, to
guide us."
" We have that in Christ Himself and in the Scrip
tures, which present to us most clearly His image."
" That is not sufficient," persists Pere Marie Louis.
" We are not capable of understanding this without the
help of the Church."
" Very true," I reply ; " we acknowledge that, in
order more fully to explain and the better to under
stand the Scriptures, we require the assistance of such
as are better and more thoroughly taught — above all, of
such as are more faithfully the disciples of Christ than
we; but then they must really be so, they must be
men of the Spirit and of the truth. If the word of
Christ and the Apostles be opposed to theirs, then they
cannot be so."
" But who shall be the judge of that ? How can we
venture to do it? " asks the monk.
"If I could do it," I reply, "after having with
prayer and meditation sought for light from the Lord

MY WARNING TO PARENTS. 223
of light, then, as a general rule, neither could I judge
between truth and error. I might just as well, in that
case, be a Mahomedan or a Fetish worshipper as a
Christian." " Look at the number and varieties of sects in your
Church," observes Pere Marie Louis. "Where is
their unity ! "
"In Jesus Christ and His kingdom," I answer.
" This is their centre, their point of union ; and their
fault is merely that they do not comprehend it so fully
and so strongly as that it should outweigh the differ
ences of secondary importance, which I believe must
always arise amongst men of dissimilar gifts and in dis
similar circumstances, but which, properly understood,
contribute to the development of Christian science."
Our conversation generally turns upon these points,
and each one of us abides by our own views, and we
mutually repeat the same arguments, whilst the logical
ingenuity and the refined wit of Pere Marie Louis
always amuse me as much as the various flights of the
discussion. Occasionally they cause U3 both to burst
into very refreshing fits of laughter. P&re Marie
Louis is as amiable as he is pious, and I might feel
ready wholly and humbly to make my confessions to
him, if he and the good Catholics here would not con
sider it as a conversion to their Church, from which I
never was farther than I am at the present time.
But, seriously, I would warn Protestant families
from sending their young daughters into convents such
as this. Young people are not equal to a combat with
these Catholics, more especially as the Protestant
Church still possesses so much faith in Catholic autho
rity, although with her it has another object than that
of the Catholics.
April 11 ih. --Edith's first communion, according to

224 I AM REPROACHED BY EDITH.
the Catholic custom, took place to-day with great
solemnity, in the little chapel, Mater Admirabilis.
Pere Marie Louis preached, and the nuns sang so
beautifully that I was affected to tears, although,
within myself, I made a protest against the one-sided
comprehension of the Church, which furnished the
subject of his discourse, and the equally one-sided dis
tribution of the sacramental elements — the bread alone;
when Christ, in His communion of the Last Supper,
gave both the bread and the wine to his followers.
The Catholic Church, which places itself in Christ's
stead, puts the people — they who are not priests — upon
half rations. And not merely with regard to the
sacrament of the Last Supper — the sphere of intelli
gence also is circumscribed or diminished.
The young lately-converted Catholic girl, with whom
I have dined alone for the last two days, said to me
yesterday at dinner, reproachfully : —
"You will now soon be leaving this convent, and
will forget both it and the Catholic Church. And in
the Protestant Church there is next to nothing which
is good for anything."
"But, Edith," I replied, "where was it that you
were first instructed about Christ and his doctrine?
Was not that in the Protestant Church ? "
" Oh, yes, certainly about Him," she answered;
"but—" And the poor girl had not an idea that that was a
principal thing !
The weather is beautiful, and after four-and-twenty
hours of violent showers the sky is again brilliant, the
trees put forth their leaves, and the birds sing. This
convent, which stands high, has a large garden with
shadowy paths between hedges of laurel and box.

THE ORDER SACRE CffiUR. 225
Here I like to walk, to watch the monthly roses
coming out, the double anemonies in flower, the peas
in pod, and in the evening the sunset behind the hilly
horizon beyond the fossil-like Rome. The air is
pleasant, and everything would be good, according to
my feelings, if I could only be at peace from the per
petual work of conversion, most especially as carried
on by my tall, zealous nun. 1 am tired of it, and shall
soon take my leave of this retraite, to which I am, how
ever, glad and thankful that I came, for I have here
become better acquainted with that which is best in
the Catholic doctrines, and with that which is the
worst — and better, also, with the future of my own
church. But I confess that I am glad to leave this
convent, where I cannot obtain anything more for my
spirit, and where I cannot breathe freely, neither fulfil
my especial vocation.
The order Sacre Cceur was founded at the commence
ment of ,the present century, by the Jesuits in Paris,
who aimed at obtaining by its means the same power
over the education of the female youth which the
Jesuit schools possess over that of the youthful male
population in Catholic countries; and this had succeeded
in no inconsiderable degree. The first supirieure of
the order, Madame Barras, a woman of remarkable
qualities, is said to be still residing in Paris. The in
stitution began with the very smallest means, but is
now possessed of eighty large houses and educational
institutions in different countries. The rules of the
order prescribe no particular ascetic practices, but the
nuns bind themselves strictly to a life of humility and
poverty. The serving-sisters here in the convent are
remarkably agreeable, orderly, and kind, whilst every
thing is done with a bright and peaceful expression.
Those engaged in instruction are pale, and look less
VOL. II. Q

226 MY LEAVE-TAKING.
affable and cheerful. Their costume is black, and a
black veil is thrown over a white cap with a twisted
trimming. The children who are educated here,
amounting in number to upwards of sixty, look quite
at their ease and happy. The convent "Trinita di
Monte" has a large, handsome church and several
chapels ; the nuns sing sweetly on Saturday and Sun
day evenings, and also at other times.
April ]8th. — I have made my adieus, and shall de
part in a couple of hours. Madame la Superieure, a
clever little old woman, with a keen glance, said to me
with somewhat of acerbity: —
"You ought not to leave us yet — ought not to
reject the now offered mercy. Perhaps you may die
within this year — and then ! And Lutheranism, what is
it after all? — nothing ! A religious doctrine, the origin of
which was that Henry VIII. of England determined to
be separated from his wife ! People should reflect a
little closely on such subjects ! "
I was rather amazed at the historical knowledge and
sagacity of which the good lady gave proof in these
words. I was silent as I generally am when I do not
feel it worth while to talk ; but it could not prevent
me from smiling a little to myself. The high spirits
and natural good temper of Soeur Genevieve made the
parting from her not difficult to me.
I parted from the Carmelite monk, on the contrary,
with a sentiment of sincere reverence and gratitude.
He has not been able to convince me of the infallibility
of his Church, nor of its right to be regarded as exclu
sively the organ of God's truth, neither of the want of
ability in unlearned laymen to attain to it by acquaint
ance with the Saviour, through the Scriptures and
prayer ; he has, however, convinced me of the earnest
ness and honesty of the Catholic priest in his faith, and

MY PARTING FROM PERE MARIE LOUIS. 227
of his great value as a guide of souls when he lives ac
cording to his faith, and demands in himself the high
est requirements, in order to become not merely a
teacher but a Providence. Men of this class, such as
this Carmelite monk, are true priests of the Lord. I
have never, not even with my nearest kindred in the
faith, carried on a discussion so continuous, so earnest,
so keen, and which yet did not leave behind it a single
bitter memory — nay, in fact, which left only one of
purity and pleasantness. I seem to myself to have
been contending with an angel. He has not conquered
my spirit, but he has won my heart. My last words to
him were : —
" I have the same love as you. Can we not be
united in it — in the love of Jesus, in His heart ? This
love is indeed essential to the professing, believing
Christian. It is not without purpose that we two have
met here, in the Sacre Cceur ! Will you not give your
hand, and not allow differences in outward dogmas to
separate us ? "
Pere Marie Louis did not extend to me his hand ;
but he said : —
"I shall pray for you. Remember that. I shall
think of you every day with prayer during the mass,
whilst I hold Him, the holy one, between my hands.
And I believe that He will hear me. I believe that
you will one day return into the bosom of the true
Church. You will not long remain where you now
are." And thus we parted, probably for ever on earth.
But would that I might have a friend near me in my
dying hour as pious and kind as this Carmelite monk !
He is shortly setting out on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem ;
and I — perhaps I too may go there in a while !
Casa Tarpeixt, Monte Tarpeio, April 27th. — My dwell-
Q2

228 GLORIOUS VIEW FROM MY HOME.
ing is now upon the old Capitoline rock, and words
cannot express how good I find it for me to be here,
and how happy I am far away from the noisy, dusty
Corso, where one cannot have any peace for incessant
festivals, and from the convent with its walls, immuring
both soul and body, its wearying labour of conversion,
sometimes interesting it may be, sometimes almost in
tolerable — to be here, far away from all disquiet and
all impediment, in the fullest freedom and peace !
The house in which I am living belongs to the Lu-
theran evangelical community — honest Luther! if I
sincerely fought under thy shadow, then give to me now
a glorious dwelling-place as my reward — and the adja
cent hospital of the community derives an income
from the letting of apartments to persons of their own
faith. The house stands in a garden, on the spot where
formerly stood the temple of Saturn ; and how shall I
describe the view which I have from my room ? Below
the rock I see the ruins of ancient Rome : the Forum,
the Coliseum, rise up as if out of a grave, surrounded
by a park brilliant with the verdure of spring. Here
the Tiber winds at the^ foot of Monte Aventino,
throned aloft with its churches and its villas; and
there, beyond these, extends the broad, vacant Cam
pagna, bordered by the sea towards the districts of
Ostia, of Albano, and the Sabine hills, in a wide
circuit. From the chain of the Alban hills rises Monte
Cavo, with the convent of the Passionists on its summit
— the towns of Frascati, Albano, Ariccia, and many ¦
others, shining out white from the green terraces in its
bosom. And above all this earthly scene, with its ruins
and gardens, palaces, temples, villas, meadows, and
hills, now beams the brightest of vernal heavens, now
flames the brilliant sun of Italy 1 Below my window
the garden shines forth on its rock-foundation, with its

WORK AND JOY. 229
roses and lilacs, whilst tame doves come flying to my
balcony ; and this air, this freshness, freedom and
peace, morning, noon, and night — there are almost too
many good things !
I awake in the night with a joyous longing for the
day ; I rise early in the morning, at five o'clock, that I
may witness the crimson light of sunrise and the won-
drously beautiful play of colours which it produces in
the vast expanse of space. I behold the sun rise, and
his earliest beams salute the little statue of Minerva
on the tower of the Capitol. At noon I am seated at
my writing-table, with the doors open upon the balcony,
on which I go out now and then to bathe my temples in
the glorious air of spring, and to let my eye wander
over the landscape. I take my breakfast and dinner
also with these doors open, whilst the most lovely
white and silver-grey doves come tripping in upon the
green carpet, to gather up some of the crumbs of the
table. A respectable Italian matron, Theresa, trustworthy
and kind as a faithful old servant in Sweden, waits
upon me and attends to my little household. In the
afternoon I take my walks, visit churches, studios, or
the parts of Rome with which I am unacquainted ; in
the evening I again stand in my balcony, see the
crescent moon rise above the shadows of the triumphal
arches and ruins of ancient Rome, see little lights
kindled along the Tiber and reflected in its waters.
I thank my Father in heaven the whole day long,
and work at my story, " Father and Daughter." I am
writing this story with joy ; because this picture repre
sents the light side of that portraiture of life of which
my " Hertha " supplied the shadow-side.
After these two works I shall die more calmly.
May 1st. — I am obliged to remove, because my rooms

230 MY NEW ROOM.
with their splendid view were already engaged by a
family, who are now expected daily. I have now, there
fore, a little corner-room in the same house, with one
eye — for is not the window the eyeof the room ? — turned
to Rome and St. Peter's, and the other glancing down
upon the gardens, one of which is full of roses in flower,
and with a view towards Monte Aventino, the Tiber
and the temple of Vesta ; and beyond them, across the
Campagna, but of which objects a tree growing before
the windows, and the foliage of which becomes thicker
every day, prevents me from seeing much. But it is
good and beautiful to be even here. Here are still the
same peace and rest, the same pure air, the same oblig
ing and comfortable Theresa to wait upon me. Instead
of the doves, I have now four handsome nice children
playing in the garden, and every evening a great dance
of fire-flies, which come in ever-increasing numbers, and
give their brilliant ballets, amongst the shadows of the
garden, until towards midnight. In the morning I am
awakened by the cheerful twittering of a number of
birds, and rise at the sound of the melodious bells of
the little church, Bocca della Veriia, the lofty campanile
of which rises near the temple of Vesta, on the banks
of the Tiber. The large bell has a singularly pure and
musical tone — una bellavoce, says Theresa.
The weather is perfectly glorious, and the moonlight
magnificent. I enjoyed it last evening, in company
with my countryman, Mr. S  , as we walked in the
acacia alleys round the Coliseum. The moonlight, which
massed together the lights and shadows, caused these
grand ruins to stand forth in all their solemn beauty,
from the pale green delicate foliage with which the
spring has surrounded them. The nightingales made
the scene vocal with their enchanting songs, whilst the
mandolin-players on the other side of the Coliseum re-

MY RESUME. 231
sponded by national melodies, in finely artistic and tre
mulous tones. The acacias filled the air with perfume,
and we walked on silently and undisturbed by chat
tering company. It could not have been more beau
tiful. And now, before I continue my sketches of the small
occurrences of the day, I will present to you, my R., in
its completeness, or at least in its principal features,
the result of my innermost, life and research during
these two years of travel, as it at the present time re
veals itself to me. This will also assist me in all the
more firmly fixing it in my own mind. I will call it
My Resume.
If you have accompanied me through the regions of
the Swiss Alps, then you know that that which I sought
for before everything else was the original fountain of
my faith, and not mine alone, but of yours also, my R.,
and that of every one who depends upon an eternal
truth, immovable, unchangeable, above the things which
change. You know that I came to Switzerland, at
tracted thither by the hope that I should there be
nearer to it, because one of the noblest minds of that
country, Alexandre Vinet, had published it in language
and sentiment of no common inspiration. The name
which he gave to it was not new on the earth. Already
Paul, Rom. ii. 15, has spoken of it ; and after him, Pascal,
Rousseau, Schleiermacher, and many others ; and they
had referred to the conscience, as a primeval conscious
ness, an original fountain in the human breast. When
the Swiss, A. Vinet and Charles Secretan, again brought
it forward as the highest organ of religious truth, it ac
quired a new force and a higher consciousness, but it
did not contain anything new. It was evident to me
that consciousness, the most holy portion of the human

232 TRUTH ATTAINED TO THROUGH CONFLICT.
being, must, if it contained the fountain of truth regard
ing God, contains also the fountain of truth and cer
tainty in everything.
Amidst prayer and labour, amidst conflict in good
and in evil, (or contradiction) with man and books,
but, above all, amidst faithful examination into the depth
of my own soul, my view became clear, and I found
that of which I shall shortly speak.
Two great teachers offered themselves as guides to
me on my way, and both said : " Trust in me, and thou
shalt find the truth and happiness ! " And each warned
me of the other as misleaders and teachers of error.
These were the Catholic and the Protestant Churches.
Both said, " I will lead you to Christ, and through Christ
to God."
The former, the Catholic, shewed me, as the means of
coming to an acquaintance with the Saviour, faith in
that Church, or in its priesthood, which would be one
and the same thing — and also good works.
The latter, the Protestant, gave me, as the means for
this purpose, the Holy Scriptures, and charged me to
have " faith alone."
I have, in the course of the sketches of my journey,
said sufficient about the peculiar merits and deficiencies
of both churches, as they have appeared to me, to ren
der it unnecessary for me further to touch on this subject,
which, in order fully to be expatiated upon, would re
quire more time and a larger capacity than I have at
my command. I will take it for granted, my R., that
you, like myself, consider that there ought to be, that
there ought to arise, a more perfect, a more universal
Church, which would in a higher degree than either of
these two satisfy our innermost need for justice, good
ness, truth, unity, perfection.
But what can authorize me, an ephemera of com-

THE HIGHEST TRUTH. 233
paratively but few years, to criticize these erections of
centuries'? — to require from them something more than
they give ? That is the question.
" I cannot help it ! " I might reply — " the necessity
for it lies within me — it is a thirst after the perfect !
God gave it to me — but there is a reason for the thirst,
the validity of which nobody will deny."
" A life of virtue and happiness, the image of para
dise, which we all more darkly or more clearly hear in
the depths of our own breast " — God's order and king
dom as in heaven so on earth — that is the heavenly
view which compels me, which, once beheld, once com
prehended, makes it impossible for me to be satisfied
with it in part — with it dim and imperfect. Be then
this (and so it is) my very dearest self.
It is Thou who, once revealed as the highest arche
type, compellest me to seek, and long to combat, until I
can rest in a world perfected in Thee. It must not, it
cannot be otherwise, if we will be faithful to the highest
within us.
But what authorizes me to assume that this view is
the true one ? To make it the final end of my critical
inquiry, and of my endeavours ? It is the two Christian
Churches which thus inquire, because in this they are
agreed, to censure both you and me if we deviate from,
or go beyond, their dogmatical doctrines.
What authorizes me to believe in the truth of my
own view? In the midst of the world's errors to
believe in the rectitude of what the age of man can
comprehend? I now approach the most innermost!
May I only find words rightly to express that which,
it seems to me, I have clearly comprehended !
Plato spoke of " a third eye," which he considered
himself to have within him, and which always beheld
in everything its primeval source (idea) and connection.

234 PLATOS THIRD EYE.
Socrates considered himself to be enlightened and
guided by a Demon, or higher spirit, which told him
what he ought to do or to leave undone. Christian
thinkers have called this inner eye and this demon the
rational conscience of the human being. But I will
retain the figure presented by Plato, as it renders my
view the more intelligible.
I find this " third eye," with its faculty of discrimina
tion and judgment, to be possessed by all people, and in
every age of the world. Above all, I find that man
kind has adjudged something to be right and some
thing to be wrong, something to be good and some
thing to be evil, something to be lovely and something to
be unlovely. From this proceed those remarkable ac
cordances amongst all people and in all ages, notwith
standing the varieties which are called forth by the
influence of times and circumstances on the development
of the inner eye. Above all, I see likewise that this
has enjoined upon mankind to look up to a higher
being, which decides upon their fate, which decides the
fate of nations and individuals — a being to whom they
must sacrifice and pray. T/ie altar is as old as the
human dwelling on earth. But this being becomes
different to the human eye according as the latter
becomes more clear-seeing and the former reveals him
self. Amongst all Christian nations I find a great
unity in the comprehension of the Supreme Being, so
also in the direction taken by their social laws, their
morals, and their art. All have for their object
the making mankind better and happier. All these
people acknowledge one Lord and one duty — that of
obeying his commands ; all have the same purpose on
earth, and the same hope beyond the grave. They
behold evidently the same truth, the same primal view
(idea.) Whence comes this accordance? The inner

THE INNER EYE, CONSCIENCE. 235
eye of the human race has become cleared with these
nations, and it was prepared to receive the light when
the light descended upon the earth.
But as in the bodily eye of man the whole body
may be said to be represented,* so does this inner eye
contain the whole world of the human being ; and as
the bodily visual nerve proceeds from an " optic cham
ber" the central organ of the head, the brain, in the
mysterious interior of which resides a discriminating,
judging, and law-giving power, so exists the visual nerve
of the inner eye — Plato's third eye — in connection with
God, and beholds the eternal, primal images, as they
live in Him and His kingdom. When this eye, native
to the kingdom of God, turns itself upon earthly things,
it involuntarily exercises a primally discriminating,
judging and law-giving power. It tries, rejects,
approves, or demands something new, something better.
It judges according to those eternal primal images,
which it beholds and judges correctly according as they
are clear to its view. Because the eye of the spirit,
like that of the body, requires to be educated in order
to see correctly. But it is possessed of the faculty of
this correct sight. The inner eye is a seeing eye, in
the highest sense. It beholds the eternal, the immu
table. It is the mirror of the Eternal Light.
"Light which enlightens every man that comes into
the world."f Light of that light which was before the
world was created, and which came to the earth in
order to make it all light, in order to mature it for the
* The whole constituent parts of the body are also found in the
eye ; but still the eye has yet something more, something of its
own, which the rest of the body does not possess ; namely, the
crystalline materia, which constitutes its window, its visual glass.
Even the eye of the tree contains the tree, and can reproduce it. —
Author's note.
f St. John's Gospel, i., 19.

236 THE DIVINE LIGHT IN ALL.
kingdom of heaven. Thou art my light, primal source
of my ability to seek and to find the truth ; thou
guidest and enlightenest every man who comes into the
world ! If I look over the nations of the world, even
from the most ancient times, I behold thee guiding them
yet in the morning twilight of the earth ; if I look to
that which led them onward in cultivation, in humanity,
I behold Thee ; if I look to the formation of the great
communities which call themselves the Christian
Church, I again behold Thee — although now darkened
by ecclesiastic walls — reflecting the heavenly vision of
a divine revelation ; if I look down into the depths of
my own spirit, and enquire after that which, even from
my childhood, taught, enlightened, reproved, admonished,
and admonishes me to the exercise of my daily in
dividuality, I again find Thee, thou brightly burning
flame, thou holy secret fire — source of disquiet and
source of heavenly rest, eye of truth, light of the light
of God ! Thou dost not control my will, but thou
makest me the judge of my own actions. Silent, but
shining like the pillar of fire which guided the children
of Israel on their way through the desert, thou con-
tinuest to go before the human race upon its pilgrimage.
Thou goest secretly, guiding onward every formative
work, every work of its genius, and leadst it forward
to its goal — perfection. Thus in legislation, morals,
social forms, science, art, the church, the state, in
dividual and general life. Primal forms in the Divine,
and the yearning after His kingdom — intuition of the
perfect, the impulse towards perfection, and the necessity
for harmony — these are the secret canons and the
springs of action in humanity. These compel hu
manity to seek for the highest, for the perfect in the
idea and the reality ; and it will attain to no peace, it
will attain to no rest, until it have worked out into

INTERNAL HARMONY NECESSARY. 237
reality every ideal of life, and transformed life itself
into a kingdom of God. This is the goal ! How
human beings are to arrive at it depends upon the
correctness of their sight, and on the purity of their
will. I know very well everything which can be said on
the imperfection of the human power of vision, of its
confusions, errors, &c, as well as all which history and
individual experience testify on the subject. But do
they not also testify of a more correct and more lucid
fundamental vision at the present time? All know
ledge and all higher science advance upon such a prin
ciple. The highest science, that of God and of man,
cannot have any other. False tones and dissonances do
not prevent the reality of perfect harmonies — nay, they
have a secret reference to them.
If I doubted my own ability to understand the truth,
then I must doubt everything which I see ; but I can
not do so and yet live. I must believe in my own
power of discrimination, and I do so even when I am
aware that my view is not fully correct, and precisely
so because I am aware of it. I then have a feeling of,
or I see indistinctly, something which is more correct,
which more closely resembles the primal image. If I
do not accept this, I then remain in contradiction with
myself and with everything, and then I find myself in a
state of disorder. I must seek after an accordance
with my reason, with my heart, with my conscience ;
this is the primal law of my being. To remain in con
tradiction is to remain in hell. The necessity for har
mony in myself and in everything is an eternal require
ment of humanity's highest imperishable nature. That
which I accept as eternal truth has its foundation in
this requirement.
Thus it appears to me that the facts necessary for

238 THE KINGDOM OF GOD.
the development of human life are twofold : God, who,
above every new age, and every new human soul, speaks
anew, " Let there be light !" and the human being, or
the humanity, which receives and continues onward the
revealed light. Of the innermost organ — the inner
eye — I have already said sufficient to explain my
meaning. Let me now say a few words on the goal
which it has in view.
Because towards this goal I see every human being,
and all nations, from the most ancient times, striving
consciously or unconsciously ; and all the wise and all
the good of the earth have endeavoured to lead man
kind nearer to it. They have given to it many different
names ; the most popular, in all ages, is that of hap
piness. Prophets in ecstatic visions have proclaimed
this goal to be a state of virtue, of beauty, and of
happiness — a realm of glory and perfection, as well for
nature as for humanity — a state under which everything
was good, a world of harmonies — Christ Jesus called it
the kingdom of God : and ever since then His disciples,
consciously or unconsciously, have been endeavouring
to introduce it into human fife. We all of us, we who
acknowledge ourselves to be of His name, have learned,
in the prayer of prayers, that of our Lord, to pray for
the coming of this kingdom on earth as it is in heaven.
And, nevertheless, its image is still so dimly compre
hended both by the visible and the invisible Church of
Christ !
The Catholic Church says that she comprehends this
goal ; but then she separates it from the actual, from the
general life, and even more and more incloses it within
the symbolical institution, which she calls the Church.
She forgets more and more — at least in Rome — that
symbols, dead works, and ceremonies, are not the chief
thing. She takes the shell for the kernel. She builds

THE ROMISH AND PROTESTANT FAITHS. 239
beautiful churches, and permits humanity to decline.
The Protestant Church which, with infinite energy,
broke the shell of forms and dead works, in order to
come at life and truth, established for her Church a
principle of inexpressible depth — "faith alone makes
holy," and established the right of free inquiry. But
whilst renewing the religious consciousness, and striking
deeper into the primal relationship of God with man,
her view also became one-sided, and her invisible Church
was not able to retain the conception of the kingdom
of God.*
* How immeasurably superior, however, its logical conception
of the Church is in comparison with that of the Roman Catholic
Church may be seen from the passages which I here transcribe
from the catechisms of the two faiths : —
Question. — What is the only Church by which you can be saved
according to the Roman Catholic doctrine? Answer. — The
Church Universal (Christian) is an assembly of all those faithful
Christians who are baptized, and acknowledge their faith in
Christ our Lord, and acknowledge, as His vicar in, and as Christ
on earth, the high Roman Pontiff (il sommo Pontefice Romano.)
— " Dottrina breve Christiana, com. p. ordine di Papa Clementi
VIII., dal R. P. Roberto Bellarmino della compagnia di Gesu."
Roma, 1857.
Question. — What, according to the acknowledgment of the
Evangelical Church, is the only true Church of Christ, whose
members can be saved? Answer. — It is to be met with wher
ever the Word of God is proclaimed and the means of grace
partaken of; and every one who is really converted from sin
to the Uving God, let him belong to whatever community of
Christians he may, is a member of this Church, a member of the
holy community — as the apostolic confession of faith more closely
decides the signification of the word, a holy, Universal Church.
I have taken the first passages from the Italian catechism for
children and young persons generally used at the present time.
The latter I have extracted from a kind of Protestant catechism,
the title of which I do not now recollect ; but members of the
Evangelical Church will not deny its principles to be their own. —
Author's note.

240 DEFICIENCY IN BOTH.
She reconducted the spirit, indeed, to the depths of
religious and moral consciousness, but did not see
the tenor of the whole, and does not see it even at
the present time. She remained faithful to her glorious
principle of the right of free inquiry, on, the ground
of the ability of the human being to comprehend the
truth, and on the ground of the enlightening operation
of the Holy Spirit on every honestly seeking mind.
Perhaps it could not be so during the enfranchised
adolescence, if I may be allowed the expression, of the
human race, as many occurrences during the earliest
times of the Reformation seem to demonstrate. Man
kind had so long walked in the leading-strings of the
Church, that they had not yet learned to advance
independently, guided by the light of the Gospel, in
the footsteps of the Saviour. Even the Church which
protested against Rome made herself the guardian of
the mind, fettered it anew to the letter of the Word,
and forbade the use of -thought, or, at least, the teach
ing of any doctrine which was not conformable with
her own established dogmas. She based them upon
the word of God in the Holy Scriptures, but she for
bade their interpretation in any way different to her
own ; and so it is at the present day in many countries.
Perhaps it was necessary in the earliest times, but —
now? She has honestly, even as the Catholic Church
in her time, fulfilled her mission of educating the people
by instruction and preaching. But her power over
human souls will decrease more and more if she herself
do not more deeply comprehend her own part and the
object which it is designed to accomplish — that of
placing every human being in a position of self-respon
sibility to God, and to preach His kingdom, not as a
something only beyond the grave, in heaven itself, but
as a something which is to be worked out upon earth.

EFFECTS OF RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. 241
For this purpose it is necessary that she do not cast
aside those means which develop the freedom and in
dependence of the human mind. She must not be
afraid of freedom, but make it a familiar guest on earth
as it is in heaven.
Why should she fear? Has she not, during the
three centuries in which she has taught and laboured,
seen the nations favourably develop themselves in
their inner life and outward prosperity ? Has she not
also seen persons, who hold themselves apart from the
outer church, devote themselves to labour for the
kingdom which the Saviour will found upon earth?
Does she not behold an improvement in prisons, the
naked clothed, the hungry fed, neglected children cared
for and educated ? Does she not behold domestic life
purified, sanctified, and the civil freedom extended more
and more to the children of the land. Does she not
behold science and art, and, above all, literature — that
great popular rostrum in the forum of the world —
become servants of that kingdom, and that the time of
the silent sufferers is approaching its end.
Let any one look with unprejudiced eye at the con
dition of those countries where the Word of God is
freely preached, where the Holy Scriptures are familiar
to the hand of every man, and free inquiry the
prerogative of every rational being, and then compare
it with the condition of those countries in which
education is fettered by the priesthood, where the Holy
Scriptures are forbidden or inaccessible to the people,
who cannot even read them, where the people are
ignorant, or taught only blindly to obey the priests and
the temporal government ! Let him compare Switzer
land with Italy, Prussia with Austria, England with
France, North America with South America! In
which is there most morality, most order ? In which is
VOL. II. . B

242 THE TRUE CATHOLIC CHURCH.
there the largest amount of prosperity, spiritual and
temporal ? In which are popular revolutions least to
be dreaded ? In which are the states themselves most
secure, calm, and at the same time most progressive
towards the object of all government, the general
common-weal ! Is it not in the countries where
freedom of conscience and freedom of citizenship are in
the possession of the people ? — where the people
themselves may choose their own faith and their own
laws — where the human being is placed in immediate
contact with the highest ideas, and made responsible
for his own choice and his own actions? The
testimony of history, then, seems to admonish us to
follow the example of Him who called the poor and the
unlearned fishermen to be the apostles of His kingdom,
and who calls us all to continue His work of liberation.
" But when that which is perfect is come, then that
which is in part shall be done away." Thus, also, with
the two great Christian Churches,* they will cease from
their disseverance and enmity when they arrive at a
deeper comprehension of their oneness in Christ, and of
their one common object. In this future, higher
Universal Church, the eye which turns to God shall no
longer find its view circumscribed by barriers of human
construction. It will have free range over the
treasures of God's revelation; it will freely accept, out
of the riches of the older as well as of the younger
church, those garnered-up and those newly-acquired,
and, from the unexhausted and inexhaustible wealth of
the Gospel, everything which belongs to the perfecting
of the order, of the harmony which it beholds — in God.
* I say nothing here of the Greek Church, because as yet I am
unacquainted with it. But as a Christian Church it cannot
remain separated from a Universal Church, which embraces the
kingdom of God,— Author's note.

PERFECTED IN CHRIST. 243
In this Church none will be called heretics or unchrist
ian who with mind and will labour for the well-being
of mankind, according to the will of Christ. Catholics
and Unitarians will, whilst they live for the object for
which He lived and died, be called His true disciples.
This church will not confound the religious science and
the religious life. If even the so-called atheist
performed the deeds of the good Samaritan, or had the
courage to combat for the truth, he also will hear the
words of the Master: "Thou art not far from the
kingdom of God ! "
With Christ as example, with His Holy Spirit as
teacher, and with the coming of the kingdom of God
on earth as it is in heaven as its object, this Universal
Church will, nevertheless, not arrogate to itself the
authority of ordaining at any period that which shall be
valid for ever. She knows that she must grow and be
perfected in the wisdom of Christ. She will, from
century to century, at the universal synods, and by the
true representatives of the Christian communities,
consider anew her faith and her life, and measure them
by that of the eternal archetype, and by the light of the
Divine Truth. She will each time, like the elders of
Israel on the Jordan, erect memorials which shall say,
" Hitherto God has helped us," and establish rules for
the next annual meeting. She will not fear nor yet
fall into error, because she will never lose sight of the
•» Divine Teacher, and will hold fast by His words,
addressed to the assembled disciples : " The Com
forter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will
send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and
bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I
have said to you ; he shall lead you into all truth : and, lo,
I am with you alway, even to the end of the world."
But until this true Universal Church acquires
E2

244 EVER-INCREASING INTEREST OF ROME.
strength, her great sections may continue, if they will
only each of them more fully develop their innermost
truth — develop their life. I do not know, but it
appears to me, that the religious life is most awake, is
most vital, in those Protestant countries where the
Protestant and Catholic churches stand free and
equally protected, side by side, as in England, Germany,
and Switzerland. There arises then not unfrequently
between their leaders a noble emulation, upon purely
Christian grounds. What great individual character,
and what beautiful institutions, have not the two
ecclesiastical faiths given birth to, especially in England
and Germany !
Individual persons have in all Christian Churches
attained to the same degree of human excellence. But
in the free country, in the free community, the number
of these persons is great, in those which are not free
it is few. This constitutes the difference between
people and people.
And now — Good night, my R. !
May 1 8th. — The interest of Rome increases with
every day that the stranger lingers there. New
beautiful works are discovered by him in the churches,
or in the streets and squares. The splendid villas, with
their grounds, which the grandees so hospitably throw
open to the visits of strangers — scenes from the life of
the people, or from the life of the Church — furnish*
unceasing subjects of enjoyment or observation, and
material for the diary of such, at least, as, like myself,
keep one.
Although the formative art — especially the antique —
acquired for me in Rome a higher significance, as the
attempt of the human mind to express in beautiful
forms its own advancing clearness of the ideal — the

MORAL IDEAL OF THE ANTIQUE. 245
youthful view which the human race took of the
Divine, " Highest joy and deepest sorrow,
In the heavens and on the earth" —
yet I shall not say much on the works of art which
remain to me as revelations of the second order. They
perpetuate for the beholder or observer the great
moments of life — its harmonies or discords. This
seems to me to constitute their immortal value. They
give also a kind of graduated scale of the popular
culture or view of life from one age to another ; and
this is of great importance.
I can see that the conception which the Greeks had
of the Divinity did not reach to the highest require
ments of humanity, from the very forms of their gods.
Minerva, Juno, Venus are cold beauties, without sym
pathy for humanity ; and Father Jupiter, with his low
forehead and bushy wig, is a respectable Pasha of con
fined intellect, but as different from the ideal of the
Father as presented, glorified in Christ, as heaven is
from earth. And when it is said that a man died
happy if he could only for once behold the countenance
of the Olympian Jove, as presented in the statue by
Phidias in Elis, it must have been said as a compliment
to the sculptor, or the Greeks' claim to happiness was
not great. The Apollo of the Vatican alone seems to
me so beautiful and noble, that I rejoice that such a
form does not move upon the earth, because in that
case people might be tempted to idolatry. How far
these gods fell short of being moral ideals is proved by
the traditions of their actions. One need only recall
those of Apollo and Hermes, Minerva and Arachne,
and the love stories of Jupiter ! And they well knew
it, the later great teachers, Pythagoras, Socrates, and

246 STATUES BY MICHAEL ANGELO.
Plato. Their conception of the Divine was of a much
higher standard.
But I will now speak of that which I have lately
seen on the earth ; first in the churches, those treasure-
chambers of the Christian life, which arose in beauty
upon the ravaged desolated field of heathen Rome, and
which will still remain as beautiful monuments of
Christian art and science, even if it should no longer
be the Pontifical capital. I advise you, my R., to
see in the church of San Pietro de Vincoli the Moses
of Michael Angelo, a remarkable figure, strong and full
of deep earnestness, a figure worthy both of the Prophet
and the artist. Moses has descended from Sinai, filled
with divine energy of the presence and word of God,
and beholds the children of Israel dancing around the
golden calf which they had made during his absence.
He sits down, astonished and angry, and plucks at his
beard. All this appears to me expressed in the figure.
In the beautiful church Maria sopra Minerva, half in
the Gothic style, you should see, near the altar, an
excellent Christ, also by Michael Angelo, and the beau
tiful recumbent figure of Catharine of Sienna, with its
expression of eternal peace. See also in the church of
St. Cecilia, in Trastevere, the statue of the youthful
martyr, lying as her body was found in the oldest cata
comb ; as also the chamber, a bath-room, still orna
mented with valuable mosaics, in which she suffered
martyrdom. To this church belongs a convent, con
taining upwards of sixty nuns ; they live under strict
rule, and occupy themselves with music and the pre
paration of priests' and church ornaments. I heard
them sing an erudite and elaborate mass, with perfect
accuracy, but — without soul.
In the little hidden church of Maria della Pace, you
must see the sibyls of Raphael, one of the most beauti-

SOME ANTIQUE STATUES. 247
ful, grand compositions of this master. The sibyls are
of different ages, but all listen to angels who are whis
pering to them the words which they are to write.
The composition is full of life, beauty, and nobility.
These sibyls remind me of a sibylla, which you ought
to see, if you come to Rome. It is by Guercino, and
is in the museum of the Capitol, a figure of more
solemn earnestness than these of Raphael, but with as
profound a gaze, as nobly beautiful, as truly turned
away from the world, and fixed alone upon the eternal
truth. It is known under the name of the Sybilla
Pensica. Amongst the sculptures of the museum of the Capitol
I especially remember the Faun of Praxiteles and the
Dying Gladiator — the former as the representation of
the most charming enjoyment of the repose of earthly
life, that dolce far niente which is so dear to the in
habitants of the South ; the latter as a type of the
highest disgust of life. The gladiator is wounded to
death ; he has nothing to look forward to, he has no
hope, he wishes nothing but — to die. Silent and
gloomy, he looks down towards the earth ; he has no
friend and no God ; the people exult over his sufferings.
He knows it, and is alone — alone ! Thus in the old
time he was seen to fall and die in the circus of the
Coliseum. The so-called Capitoline Venus has her particular
niche in the museum, and you must pay to see her,
but — she is worth the cost.
The ancient bronze figure of the she-wolf, which
gave suck to Romulus and Remus, is the most inte
resting art-curiosity in this museum.
Whilst I am in the capital of Art I will say a few
words about the artists whom I have latest visited and
their studios.

248 MISS HOSMER.
The English sculptor, Gibson, is especially happy in
imitating the antique. His figures of Psyche have a
sylphide beauty, which places them in this respect
before the antique. But his most interesting work, in
my eyes, is his pupil, a young American lady, Miss
Hosmer. After five years' instruction from him, this
gifted girl has developed a perfectly peculiar and many-
sided talent. Her many perfected statues prove this ;
for instance, her Hecuba, her Daphne, her Sleeping
Girl — a figure intended for a sepulchral monument to
the memory of a beautiful young English lady, Miss
Falcony, who, when riding one day on the banks of the
Tiber, the ground suddenly giving way under her
horse's feet, was drowned; but, above all, is her
peculiar talent shown by her Puck, the king of all
naughty little boys, whom one could kiss and take a
fancy to at once as he sits there on his throne of
acanthus leaves and mushrooms, and seems to throw
a lizard at you. Take care ! He is so full of life, that
who knows if he be not actually alive ?
Miss Hosmer has already executed seven copies of
this charming impish boy, and has yet orders for more.
She intends to make a counterpart to Puck, in the
form of a girl, which shall be called Topsy, after the
little African child in Mrs. Stowe's excellent story of
" Uncle Tom's Cabin." Miss Hosmer has still her
atelier near to that of her master. He seems to rejoice
like a father over her. She is twenty-three years of
age, and has a small but well-formed figure, with an
expression of energy and health; she has also that
pretty, round, animated countenance, the glance and
arch smile of which have something of little Puck in
them. She seems happy and full of the freshness of
life, and will dedicate her whole life to Art.
" Only take care," said I, " that you don't fall
in love !"

MISS LANDER. — MISS MITCHEL. 249
" Oh ! I have already gone through that," said she,
smiling with an expression of Puck-like character — "all
that is over !"
If I mistake not, this Puck-like character is her own,
of course in a proper degree. But, indeed, without
something of the Puck and a good deal of energy, a
young woman could not have advanced to where
she is.
Another young American lady, Miss Lander, from
Salem, in Massachusetts, is studying also the plastic
art in Rome ; and, for the present, these two are the
only female students in this branch of art. Miss
Lander came to Rome as the pupil of the distinguished
American sculptor, Crawford, but since his tragical
death, by cancer of the eye, she has worked inde
pendently. She has less talent, perhaps, and less
originality than Miss Hosmer; but her subjects are
noble, and the impression of her heads at once pure
and great. Thus, in her Young Siberian, and in the
bust of the American novelist, Hawthorne, with the
striking head. Such an expression as is there given
proceeds from the soul.
A third young American lady in Rome confers
honour on the New World by her unusual scientific
culture ; this is the astronomer, Miss Mitchel. She
is already known in Europe, as well as in America, by
an astronomical discovery, and she has come hither to
acquire knowledge regarding the Observatory of Rome,
and to communicate the same to her native land. The
Jesuits, who have the care and management of the
observatory, as well as all the scientific institutions in
the states of the Church, have, with great liberality and
politeness, thrown it open to her, and given her all the
information she required. She found everything con
nected with it in the utmost order and perfection. The

250 ROSSETTI, MOSER, AND ROGERS.
gentlemen, the Jesuits, are distinguished for their pro
found knowledge of the positive sciences.
It was a pleasure to me to hear this young American
lady speak of her father as her teacher, and as the one
who inspired her with an interest for science. Her
affection for her father was so great, that she feared
lest this interest should decrease if he were no longer
able to share it with her.
At the Italian Rosetti's I saw a great wealth of
works of art, beautiful, but not of the highest beauty.
Esmeralda and her Goat, a little Flora from every-day
life, a Mad Ophelia, a young woman in the slave-
market, are all figures of much grace and perfection.
Most original, and not the least beautiful, is a group
of an elderly gentleman, of noble appearance, who raises
by the hand a poor lad, who is sitting astride on a curb
stone. The boy is Rosetti himself when a child, and
this group is dedicated to his benefactor.
At the " American," Mr. Moser's, a number of Indian
subjects may be seen with well-formed figures, but I
have seen more beautiful countenances amongst the
Indians at the sources of the Mississippi. His Poca
hontas, standing in her picturesque Indian costume,
looking down thoughtfully at a little cross, is excel
lently conceived. The most beautiful of all his statues
seemed to me to be his Rebecca at the Well, and the
Goddess of Silence.
In the atelier of Mr. Rogers, another American
artist, I admired the pictures in bas-relief from the
history of Columbus, intended for the gates of the
new Capitol in Washington, a work similar to that on
the gates of the Baptistry at Florence, but original in
regard to the subject, and treated with great knowledge
and artistic skill.
But now enough of artistic matters and studios for
the present.

PALACE OF QUEEN CHRISTINA OF SWEDEN. 25 1
Amongst the various palaces, with their gardens, I
will merely mention that which is now possessed by
the Corsini family, and which formerly belonged to
the Swedish Queen Christina, during her residence in
Rome. Her bedroom alone — the room in which she
died — is still kept in the state it was when she occupied
it. The pictures on the walls, and which were exe
cuted for her, are an extraordinary rococo. One sees
side by side pictures of saints and unclothed female
figures amongst satyrs. But in this woman's soul was
an extraordinary mixture of small and great, of high
and low. One picture in the room, of very mediocre
quality, or rather below mediocrity, represents her
baptism in St. Peter's, after her renunciation of the
Protestant faith of her father. It represents a herald
blowing a trumpet to proclaim the remarkable transac
tion to the world.
Sweden has to thank Queen Christina for having
given, in that country, a new impulse to scientific life.
In Rome, also, she distinguished herself for her interest
in the sciences. In this respect she retained a sort of
grandeur and a sort of estimation ; but of friends she
had none, and the scanty, or rather miserable, way in
which she rewarded, by her will, her faithful servants,
" speedily dried their tears for her death," as says one
of them in her naive narrative. She departed to the
other life without having communicated to any one
that which existed in her own soul, silent and incom
prehensible even to herself; she resembled those
meteors, brilliant, but unproductive, which now and
then astonish our gaze as they speed through their
eccentric career, giving us little light and a great deal
of puzzling of brains.
The garden which belongs to the palace is large and
beautiful, laid out in the old French style. The roses

252 OSTIA.
bloomed luxuriantly, the fountains played in clear jets,
and the nightingales sang deliciously in the groves.
So was it when Queen Christina walked there; but
could the cruel murderess of Monaldeschi ever enjoy
this beauty and this peace ?
Amongst my more extensive excursions 1 was most
interested by that to Ostia. The excavations of the
old long-buried city are now actively going forward.
A long extent of tombs, beautiful mosaic floors, in
bath-rooms and private dwelling-houses, are laid open ;
they also have found statues. One remarkably lovely
female statue of white marble was discovered lately in a
bath-room; she stood there, beautifully draped, but
without the head. All excavations must cease with the
end of this month, for then comes malaria, with its
train of fevers, snakes and musquitoes, and man must
We dined at the " Castel Fusano," and were delighted
by the view of the sea, which lying open, without
islands or rocks, rolled its foaming billows towards the
sand-hills of the shore, which kept increasing in the
meantime. Poor fishermen, of a wild appearance, dwelt
along the shore in miserable huts. The campagna
between Ostia and Rome possesses but few remains of
antiquity, but it affords splendid views of the Tiber, and
of park-like meadows grazed by vast herds of cattle and
sheep. The Roman oxen are the most stately animals
of their race. They pace along, with their lofty,
beautifully curved horns, in a perfectly senatorial gran
deur, and represent in their way the dignity of the old
Roman Senate, far more worthily than the present, which
represents it only in name.
Whit-Sunday, May 23rd. — The day began with
brilliant sunshine, the firing of cannon, and the ringing
of the bells of the churches in the city. In Sweden,

SYMBOLIC CHURCH CEREMONIES. 253
they say that the sun dances this day along the sky,
and that angels travel up and down, between heaven
and earth, the whole of the time from Easter to Whit
suntide. In Rome, this time is occupied by many ecclesiasti
cal ceremonies. In one church the cattle are sprinkled
with holy water. They are brought up for this purpose,
ornamented with red ribbons, roses, and various kinds
of finery, in front of the church gate, whence they are
sprinkled by a holy Father — and it is believed that
they thence obtain the especial blessings of health and
good luck. In another church wax candles, silk, wool,
silver and gold, and many other things which serve for
the purposes of the church, or for clerical garments,
are blessed and consecrated in the same manner.
These symbolic transactions express the befitting
thought : all existences and all things ought by religious
intuition to be consecrated to the service of God.
But man stops short at the symbolical act. And the
church or the hierarchy, which here sets itself in the
place of the Holy One, is, besides, anything but sacred
and sanctifying. That which I heard of the belief, or
rather the disbelief, and of the morality, or rather im
morality, of the priests, especially of the higher priest
hood here, and in other places in Italy, is by no means
edifying, and in certain cases their influence in families
has been dreadful. But I will not repeat what I have
been told, for I myself have not seen anything of the
kind. Still I have seen, and I see every day, that these
teachers and leaders of the people, who sprinkle men
and things with holy water, do very little to make
them better or more fitted in any way for the kingdom
of God. They sprinkle holy water and make the sign
of the cross also over sin and uncleanness, and take care
that the Church itself, by outward splendour and pomp,

254 JUVENILE INSTRUCTION IN THE CHURCH.
may be, as far as possible, separated from the poor,
sinful human throng. She, the Church, does not take
heed for their education — but, on the contrary, labours
against it, and looks after their daily life merely in so
far as to render them submissive. I do not believe
that this is saying too much as regards the general
character of the Roman Catholic,* the Italian Church,
whatever exceptions may and must be made for noble
individuals, as well amongst the elder as the younger
Italian priesthood. Vincenzio Gioberti and Abbe Lam-
bruschini are prelates who cannot be reproached with
want of zeal for the elevation of the people by means
of education. But their words and their labours have
run counter to the Pontifical chair, and they have been
able to do nothing.
Not long since, during one of my morning rambles on
the«Corso, I went into one of the churches of which that
great thoroughfare has so many. Here I found from
fifty to sixty boys sitting in a circle in the great aisle,
to whom a young priest, was giving instruction. He
walked backwards and forwards, talking the while, but
as if to himself, and lifting his black cap every time he
mentioned the name of Jesus or his mother. None of
the boys paid any attention to him ; and he, on his part,
did not take the slightest notice of their talking, laugh
ing, and playing all kinds of tricks amongst themselves.
Sometimes he stopped before a boy and asked him a
question, the boy looked confused, the priest answered
the question himself, and then continued his promenade.
Thus the lesson went on for about an hour, till the bell
* The doctrine and laws of the Catholic Church are every
where the same, but different circumstances produce considerable
dissimilarity in the spirit and life of individual Catholic commu
nities, and they ought therefore to be spoken of according to their
local character. — Author's note.

OUT-DOOR PREACHING. 255
rang for il vespro, when all the boys jumped up, dropped
upon their knees and repeated, all with one voice, the
litany to Maria, with its forty or fifty poetical cognomen
to the mother of Jesus, thus : —
" Speculum justitise,
Sedes sapientise,
Rosa mystica,
Turris Davidica,
Turris eburnea,
Domus aurea,
Federis area,
Janua coeli,
Stella matutina,
Salus infirmorum,
Refugium peccatorum,
Auxilium Christianorum,
Regina Angelorum,
Regina sanctorum omnium," and so on.
This little bit of early education may be taken as
typical of the whole instructional system of the Romish
Church. I was witness this afternoon to another scene which
belongs to this system. As I was resting in my quiet
room, after a visit to Maria sopra Minerva — where, in
parenthesis be it said, I heard an excellent sermon by
a Carmelite monk, on the rights of intelligence and
its place in human life — I was roused by the sound
of a strong voice, which seemed to be preaching and
exhorting fervently. I rose, threw a shawl over my
head, and went out ; the moonlight was splendid, and
it and the powerful voice of the preacher drew me on
to the foot of the Tarpeian Rock. Here I found a
concourse of country people, assembled in an open space,
mostly men, about two hundred in number, whose
heads never seemed to have come in contact with a
comb ; and this crowd, from which proceeded an offen-

256 THE AUDIENCE.
sive odour, stood listening to a monk who, with the
voice of Stentor, exclaimed that " his heart was full of
love to them all, that he desired to embrace them all,
and carry them all bodily into the bosom of the holy
Church. But as this, however, would require thestrength
of a Samson, and he had it not, therefore he embraced
them with his heart, with his good-will — bade them
respond to, and follow him to — the Saviour."
After these words, rhetorically expressed, but with
little emphasis, he took up a crucifix, raised it aloft, and
went, attended by two priests, with candles, singing
hymns, at the head of the crowd, which followed him
like a flock of sheep. I followed also. The procession
proceeded in the moonlight night to a small, very old
church, dedicated to St. George, where fights were
burning on the altar, and a priest stood ready to address
the people. I seated myself, and he preached about
true repentance, with many very striking and very in
telligible illustrations, exhorting to confession, " honest,
sincere confession ; " " the father-confessor would every
day from this time, and this evening also, be ready to
receive confession in this church, and to grant absolu
tions." And he closed his discourse with a powerful
representation of heaven and hell, which he screamed
forth with all his might, with great gesticulation, and a
strong voice. The audience, these two or three hun
dred men and youths, more like savages and robbers
than Christian people, listened nevertheless with deep
silence, and all united in singing the litany after the
sermon. But I must ask myself, what is the use of a few se
gregated good sermons ? — what the use of these spiritual
draughts of the net, when the education of the people
is neglected, and when the government of the people
and the management of the country are such as the con-

CHARACTERISTICS OF THE POPULACE. 257
dition of this crowd indicates ? What can be the use
of one hour's confession, admonition, and absolution,
during a lifetime devoid of spiritual light or care of the
body, a life without humanizing and ennobling in
fluences ?
A noble-minded lady, an artist and a Dane, who has
resided here for some years, and who spends her sum
mers in the small towns in the hills round Rome, has
described to me the poverty there, and the filthiness,
the concomitant of poverty, as something beyond all
conception. The people are famished and beg; yet
they are naturally gentle and good-hearted. The
pleasures which are accessible to the people in the
Papal capital — for example, the tombola — the lottery —
which is going forward incessantly, and is continually
announced in shops and places of refreshment — are not
of an improving but rather of a deteriorating character.
Gambling is also a principal amusement of the people at
the present time. One sees in open places men or boys
sitting playing with dirty packs of cards, or with their
fingers, the game of morra, which, however, is for
bidden. Nevertheless, spite of so many brutifying
influences, I cannot but continually admire the natural
gentleness and educazione of this people, and how un
disturbedly one can go about in Rome, into all quarters
and at every time of the day, even amidst the greatest
throngs of people. If you speak kindly to the Italian
he will answer in the same manner ; he faithfully keeps
any agreement made with him ; nor have I ever, with
out any exception, found him fraudulent or difficult to
deal with. I could wish that men in our northern
capital behaved towards women with the regard and
true politeness which they here always meet with. I
have never once witnessed here any instance of incivility
or rude behaviour from a man to a woman, not even
VOL. II. S

258 THE MONTH OF MAY, AND LIFE-ENJOYMENT.
amongst the very poorest people. On my little pro
menades on the banks of the Tiber La Ripetta, I have
more than once seen in the evening young girls, some
times barefooted, dancing together the Saltarello, or a
hop-waltz. The men walked past or occupied themselves
with their various callings in the neighbourhood, but
on no occasion have I seen any of them disturb or even
talk to the dancing girls. And here, upon the Tarpeian
Rock, where occasionally on holiday evenings the
people dance to the mandolin or violin, the men dance
with the women — all are well-dressed and their pro
priety of manner and behaviour are remarkable. One
would say that in this people there is a natural refine
ment — at least outwardly — in the relationship between
the sexes. How amiable and estimable would not this
people be if only  you know.
The month of May in Rome is a month of enchant
ing beauty. The light, the air, the verdure, the
flowers — what luxury of beauty and delight ! The
affluence of the country overflows even in the city;
there is a luxurious abundance of vegetables and
spring fruits. One sees the people, young and old,
eating salad, peas, or fennel. It is said that for five
bajocchi an Italian can be tolerably well supplied for the
day. Bread and ricotta, a kind of savoury new milk
cheese, and vegetables, are very reasonable. Hence,
also, the Romans' tendency to far niente, and his aver
sion to manual labour. He has also his pride in this.
" Sono italianissimo perche sono romano," says even the.
street-boy, as he throws over his shoulder, like a toga,
a ragged piece of linen, or of a coverlet, and scorns to
labour in the earth. Thus, in ancient times, the lower
class of the Romans desired from their rulers, as at the
present day, merely panem et circenses. There is now,
however, an increasing middle-class, which requires.
something more.

THE MATERNAL ELEMENT IN WORSHIP. 259
For some years this month has been especially dedi
cated to the Virgin Mary by the Romish Church — ¦
and they preach only about her in the churches, even
on this day, Whit-Sunday. I was curious to hear what
they could say about the humble mother of our Lord,
who, in the sacred histories, keeps ever in the back
ground behind her Divine Son; and I went, therefore, in
the morning to the church of the Jesuits, Chiesa di Gesu
e Maria. It was crowded with people, the greater part
of whom were on their knees. The church was taste
fully decorated with flowers, amongst which were bou
quets of burning lights. The music was of a peculiarly
tender, soothing character, delightful as a mother's care.
I obtained a place between two elegantly-dressed ladies,
who had an amiable pleasure in allowing me to accom
pany, from their mass-books, the church prayers and
singing. I could not prevent myself experiencing an
impression, so sweet and at the same time so pure, that
I could not but ask myself, Is the Mary-worship of
the Catholic Church reprehensible, excepting in its ex
cess and want of judgment? — should not the image of
the God-inspired mother, even as Eve, the first mother,
is seen listening to the inspiration of the evil spirit (the
spirit of self), should not Mary, the second mother, thus
be seen listening to the inspiration of the Holy Spirit —
ought not the image of " the mother and the child,"
which is reproduced in every Catholic church, become
a type to the female sex, the educator of the child ; and
ought not theChurch very justly todevote some of its fes
tival-days to the contemplation of this deep, primeval
relationship ? The whole of this day's worship breathed
the sanctifying influence of the good mother into the
soul. It affected me profoundly, beneficially, delight
fully, until the preacher mounted the tribune.* He was
* The priest frequently preaches not from the pulpit, but from
s2

260 MODERN AND ANCIENT WORSHIP.
a preacher of no ordinary fervour or talents ; but instead
of devoting them to the sacred relationship, of which I
felt that this worship aimed at the expression, he em
ployed them in setting forth the miracles, the conver
sions, &c, which the Holy Virgin is said to have worked
of late through her images, medallions of Flmmaculata, and
by other outward means. This sermon was a perfect
farce, and the principal actor in the piece was the priest
himself, who wound up with great theatrical pathos, as
he exhorted all to fall upon their knees, and call upon
"the mother of God!"
It cannot be denied but that heathen polytheism
still exists amongst this people, and hangs as a drag
upon its religious and ecclesiastical life. It drags down
divine to physical representations, and fills the earth
with dead images and superstition. Nevertheless,
it is also true, and in some respects consolatory, that
the ideals both of the images and the prayers have
become purified, are of a higher class. People sacrifice
no longer to impure gods and goddesses, but seek favour
from the pure and the holy — in what manner is another
question ; and the festivals of the Romish Church, as
they are now celebrated, are innocent and beauti
ful, in comparison with the Saturnalia and Lupercalia
a gallery or tribune, upon which he moves backwards and forwards,
with much gesticulation. I have several times been present at
these preachings ; and perhaps it may have been a singular chance,
that they have almost always had the seventh commandment for
their subject, which furnishes the preacher with the opportunity
of much declamation against le donne, and very piquant, but not
very edifying representations, which evidently delight the hearers.
The chief business of the priests seems to be to attract the people
to church, no matter by what means. The church music has the
same object in view, with its opera marches and ballets. The
Church by this lowers herself, but not to raise herself again. —
Author's note.

GIBSON. — NEW FF.IENDS. 261
of ancient Rome, with the worship in the temples of
Sibyl and Venus.
May 24th. — I paid a visit to Gibson's atelier in the
morning. He was alone, and I enjoyed great pleasure
in the calm contemplation of his statues, and from my
conversation with him. He had just finished the model
of his Bacchus, from the antique of the Vatican. He
took me into the room where it stood alone, a noble,
beautiful figure, a copy of which ought to stand in all
wine vaults. Because this Bacchus is not a drunken
demi-god, as we in the north picture this Greek deity —
but a gentle teacher, a lover of man, who, with his head
crowned with vine-leaves and everlasting flowers, pre
sents the wine cup to humanity, whilst he says, " Enjoy
the gift of the immortals, but do not abuse it ! "
Gibson agreed with me that the highest object of
Art is to present the ideals of life in beautiful forms.
Miss Hosmer was not at home. She has given me
a good photograph of her little Puck, which I shall take
with me to Sweden.
I have now told you so much about Roman affairs,
churches, priests, artists, &c, that you will have patience
to hear a little about my own private life. You may,
perhaps, have observed that I now say we. The reason
of this is that I have frequently made my little excur
sions in company with my friendly countryman, Mr.
S  , and that I have made some acquaintance in my
lofty abode on the Tarpeian Rock, where for some weeks
have been living two agreeable young ladies, now my
friends. The one is a blonde, with an exterior and
bearing as proud as if she were Queen Elizabeth of
England, but with the heart and disposition of the gen
tlest woman. The other is a German, a charming
brunette, an actual Psyche form, with chestnut-brown

262 THE GRAND-DUCHESS HELENA AND CONFESSION.
locks falling around a child-like, pretty, but pale counte
nance, with an expression of melancholy and goodness,
and beautiful eyes with a wonderfully deep glance.
This young lady is distinguished amongst her friends
by a multitude of names : " Puss," " Puck," " Psyche,"
&c. I call her the little Tedesca, because the deep,
romantic spirit of her father-land lives in her. She is
father and motherless, and has come to Italy for the re
storation of her health, and will probably become my
daughter, during the summer, in Sorrento, whither I
purpose going on account of the baths. These young
girls look very grave and dignified to the world, but they
have between themselves many a merry little scheme —
they are witty, sarcastic, and laugh at the whole world.
They now belong to my family life on this Capitoline
Rock. Of my life in society, I need merely mention one
evening, when the Grand-Duchess Helena, a little in
quisitive, I believe, as to the result of my retraite in the
convent, sent for me to visit her. Taking me then
aside, she inquired what discoveries I had made, or
.what I had gained during my conventual trial.
" Now, confess — confess alittleto me ! " she said, with
charming curiosity.
I told her candidly the impression which this time
had produced upon me. The observations which she
herself made on the subject of confession and absolu
tion I shall not tell you, because she expressly said : —
" Don't write down for others what I have now said
to you ! "
But, nevertheless, I must express my sincere admi
ration of the pure feeling and the sure tact of this
princess; and, as regards confession, I must still add
that it belongs to the most ancient usages of the
Waldenses Church. People confess to the Barbes,

THE AVOWAL OF THE SIBYLLINE ROME. 263
from the requirement of the soul and from old custom,
and receive from them counsel and consolation ; but for
absolution, in the sense of the Roman Catholic Church,
there is nothing to be said. And if the teachers of
the Church in general were brought up to become the
counsellors and healers of the souls like these ancient
Barbes, and if the Catholic priests of the present day
collectively regarded this their vocation, with that
earnestness that some of them do, then might the
custom of confession return perhaps of itself into the
Protestant Church, in a purified, evangelical form ; and
many a troubled, sorely tempted soul might find bene
ficial guidance and tranquillity !
Another incident in my private life is that I have
brought my work, " Father and Daughter," to a close.
I have never written anything so easily and so con
tinuously: the book has, as it were, made itself. True
it is, I had for a long time carefully perfected it in my
own mind. The last pages only I found it necessary
to write more than once. The ending would not make
itself. At length, however, it succeeded last night.
My candle burned dimly, but there was light in my
soul. I knew that I had completed a good work, and
I thanked God.
And now, before I leave Rome — which will be to
morrow — probably for ever, I will take a last glance at
the three-thousand-year city of the world — the Sibyl
to whom I came to learn the runes of the past and the
future. I have already said enough about her bright
ening vision, her ascending inner life, spite of the
interval of dark centuries and terrible desolations — but
not of the vision which she now beholds, of the
avowal which she now inscribes upon the Sibylline
leaves. There was a time — now ten years since — when the

264 MAZZINI.
Pope no longer dwelt in the Pontifical city — when a
Triumvir sate in his place as ruler, and the Roman
people gathered around him — when men and women
became the willing instruments of that object and that
realm, which was proclaimed as that of Italy, as espe
cially that of Rome, the centre and heart of Italy.
What would they ? The same as in this moment of
the spirits' rising, the whole Italy, and one united,
free, and noble Italy, under free institutions, repre
sented by the free sons of the country, who can lead it
forward in morality, laws, in all institutions, which have
for their object the highest well-being of the people.
Even Mazzini entertained a high moral ideal of govern
ment ; and although he did not allow a place to reli
gion and the Church, he, nevertheless, acknowledges
the hero of Christendom as the leader and the teacher
in the path of freedom. The republic was to him the
only form in which the ideal of government could be
realized — freedom from foreign power and the dominion
of the Pope the first condition of the regeneration of
Italy. Insurrection at all points in Italy was, to him,
the principal means. " Wherever only three persons
were together they should unite themselves to protest
against the dominion of the Pope and foreign interven
tion in the affairs of Italy — unite themselves to recog
nize the Mazzinian principles of brotherly love, huma
nity, and patriotism — and thus should, from a hundred
or a thousand of small points, arise one great, united
whole." By means of his personal character and his eloquence,
by that which his view contained of the actually
moral, just, and noble, Mazzini wrought up to enthu
siasm many people as well in Rome as in the whole of
Italy. Few men have had more fervent adherents.
From all that I have heard of him, I believe that he

ROME in 1848. 265
merited this devoted regard, from the purity of his
character and the firmness of his will. His ideal of
life and government was in its moral standard
not unlike that of Gioberti and Caesar Balbo, and
other distinguished sons and daughters of Italy ; but
he differed from these in other points, and especially
in the question of the violent measures he would make
use of. Mazzini became dominant in Rome, and the
old martial spirit of the city seemed to re-awaken. It
fought an heroic fight against far superior armies dur
ing eight months. The Marchioness d'Ossoli — the
American Margaret Fuller — has preserved, in her
letters, most precious memorials of that time in Rome,
when " Mazzini never slept, but never for a moment
wavered— when his hand burned with fever, but his
glance was steady, his whole beingfirm and calm — when
young men were famished or died at their posts rather
than yield them up — when mothers in the hospitals
kissed their sons' amputated limbs — when women emu
lated men in the joy of sacrifice for the fatherland —
when men felt themselves tempted to doubt of a Pro
vidence, when all this love and all this sacrifice proved
to be in vain." For they were then in vain ! Rome was
subdued, hostile armies entered victoriously, the Tri
umvirs fled, the Pope returned.
But he returned no longer as the mild, the peace and
pardon-proclaiming Pio Nono. He came as a stern,
and, in many cases, an inexorable judge. Was it he
himself or his counsellor and minister, Antonelli — I
will believe the latter — who caused that of all the
Italian States the State of the Church was the most
severe in its punishment of the political offenders ; but,
in any case, it seems to me that the greatest responsi
bility of this falls upon the Pope? It would have
become him, as Christ's representative on earth, rather

266 PIO NONO'S PROMISES.
to die than to let thousands of men perish or be im
prisoned for his sake. From this time, 1848, Pio Nono
has remained tranquil in the chair of St. Peter ; but he
is no longer loved, and the belief in him is  past !
And what, indeed, has he done to regain it?
When he ascended the pontifical throne he promised
amnesty — and that promise he kept — organization of
the municipal body, representation of the provinces,
improvement in education, conventual reform, revision
of the laws, railways, increased liberty of the press, a
council of ministers, city guard, and many other liberal
institutions. After ten years' government, what of all
this has been accomplished ? One little railway, that
to Frascati — on the road between Civita Vecchia and
Rome there are still occasional robberies of the dili
gences* — some insignificant conventual reforms, as I
* Quite close to this Tarpeian Rock, where I enjoy life and
nature so unspeakably, is the convent of " Le Vive Sepolte," which
receives only princesses of blood royal. One of this rank wished,
a few weeks ago, to see this grave for the living, and was accom
panied on the visit by Soeur Genevieve, the tall nun of the Sacre
Cceur. She gave me a detailed account. The living interred oc
cupy themselves by incessant mortification. They fast continually,
never read, and direct their constant meditation to death and cor
ruption. They never change their dresses, and their under-gar-
ments only twice in the year — hence there prevails an intolerably
unhealthy odour in the rooms of the convent. A former princess,
who died there about two months before, "as a saint," remained
still unburied, and was visited daily by the nuns. The inmates of
this convent can never see their connections, nor yet hear their
voices, nor even know anything about them. Neither are they
permitted to see the sacrament — it is administered to them through
a hole in the wall ; through this hole it is also that they make
their confession and receive absolution. Amongst the nuns there,
upwards of thirty in number, many were young, and two very
handsome, but looked " stupid " and unhealthy. This order was
founded by a Princess Parnese, and she buried herself there with
ten other persons; and it has, since then, spite of its unnatural cha-

WHAT HE HAS DONE. 267
have been told ; of the rest they still talk, but nobody
believes that anything will be done. The public voice
cannot demand them, because it has no organ either in
the council or the senate, the members of which are
nominated by the Pope or the press. The only jour
nal in Rome is pontifical, and the introduction of
foreign books is under strict surveillance. I have not
been able by any means to receive from Paris even a
single copy of so Christianly liberal a paper as the
Revue Chretienne. For the rest, it is not I who can or
will condemn the Papal management of the States of
the Church ; but what I have seen of the condition of
the people leads me to believe the statement of the
conscientious and devout son of the Church, Count
Cesare Balbo, in his " Sommaria della storia a" Italia"
p. 452 :—
"Rome and Modena, ill re-instated in the year 1814,
have with each succeeding year become worse governed.
Wretched police and persecutions have been common
to both states ; in the papal especially, financial dis
order, foreign arms, ecclesiastical government in the
most temporal affairs, result in a position in which the
pontifical rule loses all its dignity. Every one who
racter, considerably increased. Not much more natural, and as little
edifying, appeared to me the order of "the Sisters of the Holy Sacra
ment," who pray both day and night, in splendid and magnificent
dresses, before the wafer and the wine which the priest has blessed.
The Passionists of Monte Cavi, who live a life of perpetual ado
ration of the heart of Jesus, were visited a few days since by Mr.
S  -. He found that the good brethren of that order practise
by no means severe fasting, but, on the contrary, take good care of
themselves. Between meals they repeat their masses and prayers,
as a matter of form. Such convents ought to be reformed, and to
be made more nearly to resemble those of the Philippines, the
Ursulines — where, indeed, the nuns have rigid rules, but occupy
themselves with the education of children — and also the Carme
lites. — Author's note.

268 ROMA ADDIO.
contemplates and compares the condition of the various
Italian states must clearly see that if any actual im
provement is to take place, if any great impulse is to
arise for the advancement (progress) of Italy, it must
come from Piedmont. The other states have, even in
the best which they possess, remained stationary. On the
contrary, Piedmont has, even in the worst which she
possesses, made an ascending, improving movement,
and no further advance can be expected but through
such a movement."
The above was written in 1850.
The ancient Sibyls wrote, as people know, in a some
what difficult style, and there has been a great deal of
brain-puzzling to discover the meaning of their oracular
sentences. However, in this all are agreed, that they,
the Sibyls, every one of them, proclaimed " One God
and one judgment of the world." And this enunciation
I also seem clearly to read on the new-written leaves
of the Roman Sibyl : —
" The old must pass away, or rise again transformed,
glorified. The Phoenix must ascend from her pyre
into the morning light of a higher, better world, or pass
away in its ashes ! The Catholic Church will be
born anew. It possesses the seed of eternal life ! But
the Popedom  "
Roma, addio !

269

FOURTEENTH STATION.
Arrival at Naples — Eruption of Vesuvius — Life in Naples — Un
expected Arrival at Ischia — Mrs. M  and Mr. N  An
Enchanted Island — The Princess Elsa and Waldo — Romantic
Days and Weeks — The King and Queen of Naples — The People
on the Islands — Sorrento — Love and Disquiet — Noble and Ig
noble Love — Folk's Festivals and Folk's Life — Our Domestic
Life — Worship of the Virgin — The Prince of Syracuse — Days
at Capri — Amalfi — Salerno — Psestum — Pompeii — Something
Enchanted — The Romance Continued — How Will it End ?
Naples, May 29th. — The first sight which meets me
here is of a grand character, that of Vesuvius in full
eruption. A primal phenomenon stands there speaking,
in hieroglyphics of fire and smoke, of the mysteries of
creation and the abyss, and no human mind has been
able to interpret them. The eruption commenced
three days ago, the very day that we left Rome, and
probably may prove one of the most important which
has occurred for many years. Vesuvius, which I have
hitherto called one of the earth's three thousand chim
neys — for such, probably, is the number of volcanoes —
and which I was determined to "take cooly," im
pressed me so deeply, as it stood forth crowned with
its column of smoke before us, as we hastened across

270 ERUPTION OF VESUVIUS.
the Campagna Felice towards Naples, that I was
dumb. I felt something resembling reverence and
dread before the giant of nature, the monarch of vol
canoes, so huge, so majestically terrific did he appear.
My travelling-companions would not believe in the
eruption, spite of the masses of smoke which burst
from the mountain, because we saw, as yet, no fire.
Here, however, in the Schiazze boarding-house, on
the bay of Naples, one sees clearly the great fire which
burns, not out of the mountain-top, but which bursts
forth in the abyss between the great cone and the
mountain Somma, the second half of Vesuvius, and
formerly connected with the cone. One seems to see
an extent of valley filled with burning rivers. The
highest point of Vesuvius is veiled in a dark cloud of
smoke. The road thither is said to be cut off by the
stream of lava, but from the neighbourhood of the
Hermitage an excellent view may be obtained of the.
burning valley.
The distant sight kept me awake through this night.
The scene was so peculiar, especially when the full
moon rose above it, half hidden in a cloudy veil,
coming like a timid vestal to fly before the flames of
the subterranean god, which shone ever redder as the
moon advanced in her mild splendour. Again and
again I could not but leave my bed during the night to
contemplate from my balcony the contending lights —
that of Loke which tinged the heavens red, whilst a
dull, thunder-like noise sounded from his subterranean
realm ; and that of the moon, which gained ever more
and more ascendancy over space. The stillness of the
night at length seemed to lull them both to rest, the
moon advanced into a bed of cloud, and the fire of
Vesuvius seemed to burn slumberously.
The morning was cloudy, but the day has become

ERUPTION OF VESUVIUS. 271
bright and warm, and during the coming night I shall
more nearly behold his glowing majesty. Immense
masses of smoke ascend from his jaws, and then sink
over the whole mountain district to the left around the
bay of Naples, the heights of Torre del Greco, Sorrento,
and Castellamare. I have a pleasant home on the
Riviera di Chiaja. In front of it, between the quay
and the sea, extends the beautiful promenade Villa
Reale ; beyond this is the bay, the grand, celebrated
bay, surrounded by the shores of Pozzuoli and Pompeii.
The former is crowned with villas and parks. On the
left is throned Vesuvius. The sea is full of joyous
life, and the waves gleam in the sun. Exactly opposite,
on the horizon, lies Capri, like a great block of stone,
and suns itself on the dark blue moving plain.
May 30th. — No, I was not able to pay my respects
to Vesuvius in his fiery neighbourhood. About noon
yesterday it pleased his majesty to envelop himself in
a black robe of smoke, which looked like a threat of
the deluge, or the last judgment, or something of that
kind. Dull thundering sounds were heard; the air
grew cold, and the wind drove eddies of sand through
the air. This continued till evening, when the robe of
cloud was lifted above the mountain, and displayed a
lofty pillar of fire, which rose upwards out of the great
furnace. The dark cloud was tinged red by it, and the
streams of lava appeared more intensely hot, and, as it
were, nearer. Thick smoke ascended from the summit
of the cone, and a new eruption was expected. Late
in the evening loud cracking sounds and most strange
noises were heard.
The little company in the Schiazze boarding-house
were kept in a state of excitement by the scene, and
related terrible things, and. all the misfortunes which
the eruption of Vesuvius might occasion, and which in

272 ERUPTION IN-DOORS.
extreme cases might be looked for, and this made the
grand spectacle at once dismal and interesting. The
more remarkable personages in this company are, an
American diplomat, a Catholic, an interesting and
agreeable man ; a young widow, elegant, refined, and
particularly charming, of the Protestant faith, but sus
pected in the boarding-house of Catholic tendencies;
and a large, stout Miss S  , one of those originals
which are only produced and sent forth by Great
Britain. The view of Vesuvius and of the amiable
young widow animate her every evening to sermonize
on God's providence, and to make violent onslaughts
upon Catholicism and the Pope, both in verse and
prose. Her fervency increases the while ; she goes in
and out through the door, strikes upon her breast, and
calls the Pope " this man of sin," " this antichrist," and
becomes in the meanwhile so fanatical and zealous, that
it amuses me, but evidently annoys the young widow,
who sits silently with downcast eyes, and with an ex
pression at the same time so good and so suffering, that
it excites me to enter the lists against Miss S  , and
in favour of Catholicism, which obtains for me a grate
ful glance from Mrs. M  , as I will call the young
widow, and new explosions from the other, who most
certainly would have been a first-rate actress.
Whilst she preaches, and Vesuvius smokes, and I
wait for an opportunity of visiting it in tranquillity, I
will say a few words about the journey from Rome to
Naples. The journey was made by vetturino, in company
with Mr. S  , a young Englishman, Mr. H  , and
an amiable elderly married couple, Germans, who were
called by their friends Philemon and Baucis. Phile
mon, Dr. Steinheim, who was also called " the learned
Rabbi," is a handsome old man, with snow-white hair

ROUTE BY SAN GERMANO AND MONTE CASINO. 273
and a countenance which, in feature and expression,
reminds one of Franklin; Baucis, again, i3 a little old
woman, still handsome, comfortable, kind, and with a
certain solemn dignity in her demeanour, a true repre
sentative of the antique shepherdess. We had, for
many reasons, resolved not to take the usual route to
Naples by Terracina, but to drive by way of the
Abruzzi, Monte Casino, San Germano, and so on. I
was glad to do so, because I wished to see the celebrated
old convent, Monte Casino, and Padre Tosti, whose pa
triotic work, "La Lega'Lombarda," did him great honour
as an Italian, and had attained for him the honour
likewise of eight months' imprisonment, under the
paternal protection of King Ferdinand of Naples.
This route — by way of San Germano and Monte
Casino — is advisable for such as love to see picturesque,
wild mountain scenery, with views over fertile stretches
of valley, and to make acquaintance with dirty little
towns half overspread with cobwebs, but where the
peculiar physiognomy and dress of the people, some
times literally of rags, the dirt and the half-naked,
mendicant children, who exclaim, with expressive ges
tures, " Morto di fame! rnorto difame!" But all ought
to be warned from this route who make a great point
of good hotels and good living. The weather, besides,
was stormy and cold in the mountain district, and we
enjoyed but few sunbeams. We had them, however, in
the valleys of Sacco and Liri, embosomed in the wooded
heights of the Abruzzi, above which large wandering
clouds cast their shadows, and a troop of women, like
cariatides, came along with large water vessels on their
heads from the fountain near the little town where we
dined. Another such gleam of sunshine had we as we
clambered up Monte Casino; and it was needed, for it
was cold, and the convent lies very high.
VOL. II. T

274 PADRE TOSTI.
The convent and church are as magnificent as
palaces, brilliant with marbles and precious ornaments.
Statues and busts adorn the courts and passages. The
worthy fathers of the convent all, with the exception
of three, go to sleep at noon, and the whole establish
ment seems to bear them company. The convent
seemed deserted. On my enquiry, however, for Padre
Tosti, he immediately made his appearance — a little
man, with handsome, dark eyes, finely cut countenance,
refined manners, and an expression which seemed to
say that he had learned that it was not necessary to
say all that one knows and thinks, if one wishes to live
at peace. He seems now to have found this blessed
peace, and to employ it for his learned labours. We
may trust him for writing something as high-minded
and patriotic as the above-mentioned work. The
printing-presses of Monte Casino — where this work
also was printed — have, since the transactions of 1848,
been stopped, and Padre Tosti now writes under the
watchful eye of the censor. He has in the meantime,
at the last session of the chapter of the convent,
received the title of abbot; and he is said to have the
prospect, if he behave well, of becoming in reality
the abbot of the convent. He gives instruction merely
an hour in the day ; the rest of his time he devotes to
his own learned labours. I complimented him on his
" Lega Lombarda," which seemed to give him a pleasure
that he was half-ashamed of showing. The number of
the monks is not above twenty, and their life not under
strict rule. They live well ; take a good rest at noon,
smoke cigars, walk about, read the newspapers, &c.
The pupils who are educated here — for the greater
part young noblemen — are about one hundred and
twenty. Besides these there are forty alumni, so that
the whole number of residents is about two hundred.

MONTE CASINO AND THE CONVENTS OF THE PAST. 275
Salt, cigars, &c. are now sold in the convent, which
attracts many people thither, because these articles can
be purchased here at lower prices than elsewhere. At
Whitsuntide many thousands of people assemble on
Monte Casino, both men and women of the peasantry,
to make confession and receive absolution from the
learned fathers, who cannot then have a great deal of
time for their noonday slumber.
The convent, with all its splendour, produces now no
unusual impression. It is known that its higher life
and significance are past. Yet it stands like a beautiful
monument, from the times when convents were the
only asylums for innocence, piety, science, for all the
memories of the human race, all its higher, spiritual
efforts, whilst nations rose against nations, tyrants
against tyrants, and fire and sword devastated the
earth. In the protection of the convent pious men
and women transcribed the precious old manuscripts
by hundreds, whilst learned laymen there prepared the
works which afterwards — when the deluge of desolation
had passed over — should enlighten and benefit the
world. Amidst general confusion and warfare they
stood like God's bulwarks on the earth, and preached
of the Divine peace. They have done their work.
Monte Casino is the oldest convent in Italy, and was
celebrated already in the time of Charlemagne.
But again to our journey.
The learned Rabbi gave me, during this time, an
unexpected pleasure. He read to us each day one or
two of the psalms of David, from a collection of the
psalms in Hebrew, which he always carried in his
pocket. In the first place, he read them in their
original tongue, and then in German, with such a
pathos and energy, that not even King David himself
could have done it better than did this his descendant !
T2

276 THE CAMPAGNA FELICE.
And never have I felt as from his reading the incom
parable beauty and lofty poetry of these songs, never
been so affected by them, and so attuned to joyful
devotion. Enthusiastically attached to his religion as
the pre-eminently pure and purifying — for Dr. Stein-
heim is a Jew, who accepts Christianity as a develop
ment of Judaism, and Christ as a good prophet and
teacher. Would that there were many Jews like him !
There is also another little book which he always
carries about with him in Greek, containing the songs
of Anacreon, Pindar, and Sappho; and this, too, he
read and translated exquisitely. There is a fire and a
grace in these lyrics which is inimitable of its kind,
but not to be compared for loftiness and rich natural
poetry with that of the Hebrew poet-king. The
acquaintance of the learned Rabbi is also interesting
to me in another respect, because the goal of my
journey is no longer Italy, nor yet Greece, but silently
in the depths of my soul is sung, " Jerusalem ! Jeru
salem !"
We descended from the wild Abruzzi mountains
down into the beautiful province called Terra di
Cavono, or Campagna Felice, and there we found our
selves in the lovely summer-warm south. Everything
here is cultivated and beautiful, as in a grand natural
park. The vine clambers into the highest trees and
throws itself from tree to tree, poetically beautiful I
The flax was in bud in the meadows, and the corn
seemed white for the harvest. All around us was a
scene as fertile and flourishing as Paradise; but beyond
this rose Vesuvius, lofty and threatening. The broad
high-road became ever more and more alive with car
riages and pedestrians, but principally with the former.
How unlike the neighbourhood of Rome. The horses
are decorated with tall brass ornaments and red tassels,,

NAPLES, THE FACCHINI. 277
sometimes with flowers ; men and women with roses in
their hats or their hair. Most of the vehicles are a
kind of large cart, with tall wheels, drawn by all kinds
of beasts, horses, mules, oxen, asses, cows, and, not
unfrequently, by three or four different creatures at
once. It looks awkward and disorderly, but it seems
to answer pretty well. Human beings here seem to be
of a lighter calibre than elsewhere, for you will see ten,
twelve, or fourteen persons, men and women, and
above that number, piled upon, or hanging to a cart,
drawn by a single horse or mule, which trots away
with them as if they were only so much straw. The
people look full of life, gay, independent, even lawless.
Thus we reached Naples and its charming bay, over
which Vesuvius seems to rule like a gloomy despot,
with judgment and death upon his lips. The city,
however, looks gay, far more so than Rome. The
houses shine out white, amongst the verdant gardens,
beside the bright-blue sea, towards which the coast of
Naples extends itself like an opened embrace, the
rocky arms of which are richly adorned with towns,
country-houses, and pleasure-grounds — splendid brace
lets ! Facchini, in the city, swarm like flies after the
carriage, and are still more difficult to get rid of. The
people in the streets shout and vagabondize dreadfully.
The sun shines, and everything breathes of southern
life, both in good and in evil.
We stopped in the Chiaja Santa Lucia, because some
of our travelling companions were to remain in the
hotel there. The facchini had finally all dropped off
from us in consequence of our determined commands
and protests, all except one, who had sprung after the
carriage all the way from the douane, and now stood
panting at the carriage-door. Mrs. Steinheim re
proached him for his pertinacity, and added, "E un gran

278 INCREASED ERUPTION.
manco d' 'educazione ! Ma come, Signora? Vi bacio le
mani!" (But how, Signora? I kiss your hand!) ex
claimed the sunburnt Neapolitan, with a grand air —
" I am at your service ! You cannot do without me !
Let us make un accordo," &c. And assiduity gained
the victory also this time.
After this I drove to my abode, which has the most
beautiful situation, and presents one of the most splendid
pictures which the mind can conceive or the eye
behold. May 31st — Yesterday the eruption increased con
siderably, and the torrents of lava have advanced.
Towards evening I wandered along the shore in the
direction of Posilipo, just opposite Vesuvius. One
could see the streams of fire like fiery-hot serpents
crawling down its sides, and the flames ascended out
of the hollow between the two mountains. It looked
like a burning city in the bosom of the mountain ; it
was magnificent but terrible ! A number of people
were standing on the quay gazing on the scene. I
entered into conversation with some of them, and found
all particularly willing to communicate all they knew.
The Hermitage was said to be surrounded by the
torrents of lava ; the hermit had fled ; many vineyards
and olive-groves were already destroyed. It was
feared that during the night the fire would advance
to Barra — a village above Portici — and the inhabitants
of the surrounding farms had fled. Fears were enter
tained also for Portici. Fire was seen now and then
to issue from the crater on the summit of the cone,
and great devastation was apprehended.
In the midst of this spectacle and its dangers, car
riages were circling round on the broad Chiaja, in un
impeded career and gaiety. There is every afternoon
a regular stream of carriages, greater and less, from the

DANCE IN THE STREET. 279
Viennese carriage to the corricolo, with from twenty to
five-and-twenty persons, after one horse, and people of
all classes, from princes and princesses to girls, boys,
and sailors. It is especially the equipages of the latter,
their horses adorned with feathers and finery, which
you now and then see driving madly in the endeavour
the one to pass the other. The drivers shriek and
shout ; the vehicles drive along three or four abreast.
Pedestrians were fewer in number and behaved quietly,
all except the boys, who seem to me here to be a kind
of quadruped, continually lying in the streets amidst
the tumult, the wild career, or the affrays.
Another lively scene also presented itself here within
view of the flames of Vesuvius. A young girl entered
an open space on the Chiaja, beating the basque upon
an old tambourine, to a lively and marked tune ; she
took her stand under a tree and began to sing as she
beat her tambourine. Immediately a circle of girls
was formed round her, together with children better or
worse clad. Two ragged girls began to dance with
castanets; two others followed their example, well-
dressed and handsome, who struck the castanets ex
tremely well, and danced well also. Many came in
the same way, the castanets passing from one pair to
another. Nurse-maids came up, placed their little ones
in other women's arms, and went in for a dance for a
moment ; then resumed their infants, kissed them, and
looked on whilst the others danced. The tambourine,
like the castanets, went from hand to hand : they who
beat the former, also sometimes sang a monotonous,
unmelodious, but rhythmical song. At length the
dancers amounted to above a dozen young women,
who evidently were all dancing for their own hearts'
joy and pleasure, whilst older and younger sailors stood
smoking at some distance, without, in the slightest

280 THE KING'S NAME-DAY.
degree, disturbing the girls, whose dance — a kind of
tarantella — they seemed to watch with pleasure, but as
an every-day affair.
Very few persons, comparatively speaking, seemed to
pay Vesuvius a certain fearful attention, whilst the
twilight increased and the lava-streams glided more
brightly, and the flames tinged the clouds of smoke
crimson. The carriages rolled on uninterruptedly and
the girls danced. From the lofty fortress of St. Elmo
cannons thundered in honour of the name-day of the
King and his patron-saint, San Ferdinando ; they were
answered from fortress L'Uovo (the Egg), on the
shore, and people began to light lamps for the illumi
nation, and I went home to my tea.
After tea I went with young Mrs. M  and my
countryman, Mr. S  •, to the Chiaja Santa Lucia,
in order thence to see Vesuvius, and the royal illumina
tion. We saw, now and then, flames ascend from the
highest crater, and red-hot stones hurled up. We
could distinguish quite plainly small, blue, moving
lights in the neighbourhood of the Hermitage. These
were the torches which lighted such persons as visited
the mountain, who seemed this night to be nume
rous. We proceeded along the Chiaja, which takes its name
from the patron saint of Naples, (Santa Lucia, a young
martyr), and saw its peculiar market.
A number of small wooden stands are placed in rows
along the shore, each one of them with its lantern, by
the light of which one sees quantities of a peculiar
production of the sea, called frutte di mare, strung
in an ornamental manner. These are consumed by
amateurs, standing or sitting at tables near the shore.
This market, with its buyers and sellers, made a very
picturesque foreground to the dark background of

ASCENT OF VESUVIUS. 281
heaven and sea, and the threatening mountain which
coloured both with its crimson flames.
There were some very splendid bits in the illumina
tion, especially the church of St. Francisco (a kind of
imitation of St. Peter's at Rome), and the buildings of
the Caserne, where the movable columns of light pro
duced a good effect. The royal castle stood desolate
and gloomy. In the front of the facade is a whole
park of artillery, with a double row of cannon. The
same are also seen on many of the roofs of the houses,
with their muzzles turned towards the castle, as if to
attack it. The king himself and his family keep them
selves out of the way at Gaeta. The people are very
quiet, and were not numerous in the streets ; the night
was pleasant with a fresh sea wind, Vesuvius being the
hero of the nocturnal show.
June 1st. — Thou who hast accompanied me to the
home of eternal snow, accompany me now to that of
eternal fire, to the burning realm of Pluto and Loke !
But I will lead thee thither as the bird flies, and thus
thou shalt escape what I had to endure, nearly three
hours of jolting under the burning heat of the sun,
on the paved road from Naples to Portici, and from
thence to Vesuvius, for thither is our journey. But I
should be very glad to show thee the picture which is
presented as we ascend the mountain — the grand,
glorious picture of the sea, with its vessels and
islands ; of Naples and its surrounding districts, far
away towards the blue mountains on the horizon. It is
glorious, especially when, as now, it is lit up by the
sun, which in its descent bursts from between a dark
cloud and the earth with a brightness and power
like a beaming glance of love on parting from the be
loved. We soon reached the stream of lava, which rolled

282 THE LAVA-STREAMS.
forth threateningly through the vineyards above
Portici. The inhabitants had already fled from several
small houses, from others they were ready to fly.
Upon the roof of one well-built dwelling stood an elderly
man, immovable, with a child in his arms, watching the
glowing stream which was slowly approaching. The
horse stood before the gate, saddled and loaded, in
readiness. In one hollow, towards which the stream
was rallying onwards, was gathered a large concourse
of people, amidst which a procession advanced with
singing, and a number of burning lights, carrying two
gilt figures, the one with a bishop's mitre on his head,
and his hands uplifted like those of the Pope in the act
of blessing ; the other of the Madonna, a little image
with an immense crown on its head, above which a
canopy was borne by priests. San Gennaro, the
guardian saint of Naples, and La Madonna, they told
us, had been brought hither; and here they were
invoked to intercede that the farther advance of the
lava might be stayed, but so far, it seemed, with but
little result, for it was still slowly moving onwards.
We stopped, alighted from our carriage, and walked on
to the edge of the fiery current, where we could see
extremely7 well the mode of its advance. I cannot
compare it to anything else but thick, fiery porridge,
in which the groats are red-hot stones and cinders, and
which pours along in heavy waves one over another,
and on reaching any inequality or hollow in the ground
forms regular avalanches, in which flames burst forth.
Here and there the fiery porridge meets with some im
pediment, where it piles itself into lumps, which quickly
accumulate into large heaps, which grow black ex
ternally, till some fresh impulse from the crater causes
them to burst, occasioning explosions from their fiery
interior. We could see the crater perfectly well,

WE PROCEED ALONG THEIR EDGE. 283
because it lay on this side the mountain, and the stream
of fire which flowed from it formed an almost straight
line of — it was said — three English miles wide. This
flowed on amidst an incessant crashing and crackling
noise, as from a mass of burning coal, and the heat was
great. We had this stream continually on our right,
as we, together with a vast number of people in car
riages, on horseback, and on foot, proceeded onward to
wards the Hermitage, the road to which is still unimpeded
by the lava, as we were told. The road which on the
lower parts of the mountain 'had some very narrow, and
in the throng difficult passes, became afterwards broad
and excellent. On every side, where the surface of the
mountain had not been encroached upon by the lava,
either now or on former occasions, it was verdant,
covered with grass, bushes, or smaller trees. Vine
yards were planted over a considerable part of the
hollows of the mountain, where the streams of lava had
advanced. At the Hermitage we alighted from our carriage, and
continued the journey onfoot, along the lofty grass-grown
ridge, which hence extended to the inner side of the
mountain, and which is bordered by lava-streams from
its midst. They flowed both on the right and left hand,
and this latter stream was of a force and power of which
it is difficult to give an idea. The crater whence pro
ceeded this flood was concealed by a lofty ridge of
rock, behind which a fiery-red brilliancy was flung to
the clouds, but over a depression in this ridge a broad
flood of lava was poured down with the speed of a water
fall. From these jaws of the lion {bocca di leone) out
of which large red-hot pieces of rock were hurled, one
saw the stream pour down the mountain, forming hills
and dales of partly glowing and partly blackening lava.
The darkness concealed its limits ; but thus might the

284 SOLEMNITY AND GRANDEUR OF THE SCENE.
region of hell appear. The cone of Vesuvius towered
dark veiled in smoke. I saw merely once or twice a
few red-hot stones thrown up out of it, and there could
only be danger on the ridge where we stood, in case of
an eruption from its summit, although we were sur
rounded on three sides by lava. The heat thence was
great, and even intolerable when we approached the
lava streams ; but on the top of the ridge it was plea
sant enough, because the night wind grew colder and
stronger. Sometimes we were visited by a violent
whirlwind. There was then a loud noise and explosion
in the great fiery furnace, above which the smoke eddied,
whole rows of newly piled-up lava walls were tumbled
in, or the blackening heaps were broken up, blue flames
flashed out of them, red-hot stones were hurled down,
kindling trees and bushes along the boundaries of the
lava streams. The more the darkness increased, the
more animated became the eruption. It was a ter
rible sight, and yet at the same time it attracted
to itself the eye and the mind with a power of
fascination. One could not give up the sight of
these continually changing, and yet ever kindred phe
nomena — one could not but gaze at these fiery abysses,
at these blackening heaps which must explode, at these
glowing masses which rolled forward — could not but
gaze at them with a secret joy, although they carried
along with them desolation and death. All around and
above this scene nothing was visible save darkness and
smoke. Along the ridge, on the contrary,' human life was in
motion, full of thoughtless merriment and curiosity;
people shouted, laughed, ran about, offered cigars,
fresh water, champagne, marsala, torches ; and torch-
bearers offered themselves to conduct one to the very
farthest point of the ridge, where the lava was still

THE HUMAN MIND SHRINKS BEFORE OMNIPOTENCE. 285
glowing hot beneath the blackening crust, and could be
felt hot beneath the feet of whoever might go so far,
defying the reality of danger — because below this cool
ing crust flows the fiery flood of a boiling red heat. My
lively young friends, Mrs. M  and Mr. S  , were
amongst the courageous ones ; but whilst they were en
gaged in this adventure, I seated myself upon a little
knoll at the foot of a large black cross, at the highest
point of the ridge, where stood two pale ladies
dressed in mourning, their mild serious countenances
lit up by the light of the fiery streams. Here it was
quiet and solitary, and one could contemplate in peace
the grand, gloomy spectacle, in which the blind power of
nature is the hero, and mankind only impotent acces
sories. Ah ! this scene was not new to me. Ever since
my earliest childhood I have been disturbed or terrified
by it, when I had contemplated life either in great or
small. Often, often had it hidden God from my sight.
And again I beheld here this enigmatical power, which,
like a blind necessity, goes forth over human life, over
turns small human dwellings, converts their harvests and
their hopes into ashes, and the career of which no
prayers and no tears can avail to stop. And again the
old, dark question arose out of the old wound, Is there
a Father above the earth ? Does he trouble himself
about the children of men ? I never had very strong
faith, and I never shall have it. I am a seeking spirit,
who beholds in hope, one who embraces the cross, and
trusts in Him who there, amidst life's deepest sufferings,
revealed to us the Father. I rest in Him, waiting for
the perfecting of my sight. Though life's dark pheno
mena operate overpoweringly for a time, yet no sooner
is the conflict over, than my true sight, my hope and
my faith, return. So was it even now above the dark
crater on the summit of Vesuvius — I saw a little star

286 JOY IN MY RETURN.
gleam softly through the smoke, which hitherto had
totally obscured the heavens ; I then became really bet
ter, both in body and in mind — I breathed more freely.
Towards midnight we left the realms of Loke — but
still visitors were arriving, driving, riding, walking, all
on their way thither, and torches, the flames of which
glimmered like blue points along the red-yellow lava
streams, became still more numerous. Most assuredly
there were several thousands of people this night upon
Vesuvius. I am glad that I can spare you the horrible shouting
and bawling of the drivers and the boys at the Hermi
tage, beyond which the carriages could not proceed, as
well as the throng and the difficulty with the carriages
in the narrow parts of the road, where the vehicles en
tangled themselves in a Gordian knot, and where we
sat waiting a full three quarters of an hour. There
seemed to be neither watchmen nor police, and the
Neapolitans are incomparable for their negligence, their
noise, and their shouting. Everything, however, went
right in the end — splendid figures and genre pictures
were lit up by the light of the torches — the Gordain
knot was untied. We began to proceed ; the moon
rose to the right, far away from Vesuvius, and gently
lit us on our way. Very beautiful, as we beheld from
the mountain, was the view of the shore of Naples,
sketched out as if in a silvery half-circle of lighted
lamps. The night was clear, but very cold. I scarcely
know that ever I experienced a more delightful sensa
tion than when at half-past two in the morning I again
found myself in my quiet room, in company with a cup
of cold tea, and a piece of bread, and within sight of
my white bed ; the candle which burned so calmly — the
peace, the solitude, the profound silence — I seemed to
myself to have come out of hell into paradise.

THE STREET POPULATION. 287
June 4th. — "San Gennaro in compagnia con la Madonna
hanno fatto fermare la lava ! " I heard announced, with
much emphasis, yesterday afternoon, in a German
bookseller's shop, by some Italian gentlemen, who smiled
with a disbelieving air. In the meantime, the danger
of the eruption is actually over for the present, and the
streams of lava have ceased to flow. It is asserted that
at least forty thousand Lazzaroni and Facchini have
in consequence been disappointed in their hopes, and
that they have watched with avaricious longing glances
the increasing eruption, which promised them the op
portunity of plunder, and of enriching themselves dur
ing some great and general devastation. From the ap
pearance and manners of these people I could very well
believe it.
The population of Naples produces really a sorrow
ful and repulsive impression. In Rome the people
stand about idle or in the streets ; here they lie
like dogs, when they are not bawling or fighting,
especially the half or wholly naked boys. They are
like savages. The countenances are in general
extremely unpleasant, the lower part of the face
projecting ; the mouth large, with bad teeth, or gaps
between them. The beautiful human type which you
see in the higher class of Italians and in Rome is not
found here, still less the Roman bearing and dignity.
One seems to behold a lower race of humanity, which
acknowledges no worth but that of carlini and grani.
The eyes, however, are often beautiful, remarkably
bright, but they readily acquire a savage expression.
There is something of Vesuvius and Masaniello in
every-one of these Neapolitan street-figures, and they
are only kept in check by the fear of the bayonet.
But whose fault is it ? Out of a population of four
hundred thousand, Naples is said to have forty thou-

288 ISCHIA.
sand lazzaroni, or men who live from day to day like
the sparrows or the flies, without any decided work or
object in life. And whilst the king lives in delicacy at
his pleasure-palace at Gaeta, and the priests in Naples
drive about in their carriages, or sit at the cafes,
drinking and smoking, the children lie naked about the
streets, even at night. The priests here have a much
worse and more worldly physiognomy than in Rome,
and they seem never to think about exhibiting them
selves in their spiritual character. One cannot avoid
the disagreeable impression that the people here
actually lack all spiritual food, all means of elevation
both of soul and body; and that they are purposely
kept in this brutish condition, that they may the better
be governed by — sheer force.
And such is the state in the much-sung-of Naples,
the old Parthenope, and the capital of Magna Grecia !
The city has a peculiar interest for foreigners, from the
scenes which its popular life affords, and the beauty of
its promenades and squares surrounding its bay.
Villa-Reale, with its marble temples and statues, its
beautiful trees, shady alleys and fountains, its air, and
the view over the sea, is the crown of all public grounds
and promenades of the city. To-morrow, in company
with some old and new acquaintance, I shall visit the
remarkable places on the shore of Pozzuoli.
Ischia, June 14th. — During one's life abroad the un
expected excursions, and relationships are not its least
refreshing parts. Thus at the present time I have,
quite unpremeditated by myself, settled down in this
island with some friends, of whom more has yet to be
said. I set out on my journey to Pozzuoli and Baiaj in
company with the young widow, Mrs. M  , the
Englishman, Mr. N  , and my countryman, Mr.

BALE. 289
S  . How glorious we found the ruins of the
temple of Jupiter Serapis ; how the frogs swarmed
round Lago d'Agnano ; how we saw a dog condemned to
die in the Grotto del Cane, and afterwards come to life
again ; how at Cumse we visited the cave where the
Sibyl is said to have dwelt ; how we stood in the ruins
of the school of Virgil and the Villa of Lucullus, amongst
the walls of which grow large plants of anise like ghosts
of the ancient kitchen-garden ; how Solfatara boiled and
poured out its sulphur-fumes, which seemed to make it
a very worthy representation of the descent into hell, as
the poets had stated ; how much we saw which was re
markable in the ruins, and how much that was beautiful
in nature and in the views ; how we were incessantly
tormented, partly by beggars, partly by the offer for
sale of antique articles, small lamps, sibyls, &c. ; how we
were tempted, and how we bought with our piastres
manufactured articles, which were not worth so many
carlini; how we fought and grumbled the whole way
against the modern population of Pozzuoli's shameless
extortioners — how by this means were destroyed the
quietness and a great deal of the enjoyment of our
journey, I will merely mention here in the most
summary manner.
Our cicerone believed in the poets, in Virgil and
Horace, and swore to the truth of what they had said;
and when I expressed a doubt about one or other of
their statements, he grew violently angry and
exclaimed, " You do not believe in Virgil and Horace ? Do
you believe in the Devil ? " Later in the day he got
drunk. At Baiae we glanced at the Piscina Mirabilis, at
Mare Morto, and the Elysian fields — more remarkable
from the celebrity which the poets have conferred upon
VOL. II. U

290 SAIL TO ISCHIA.
them than from their own scenery ; were delighted with
the beautiful ruins of the temple of Neptune on the
shore, and towards evening crossed over to Ischia.
The thought of going across to Ischia occurred to the
lively young Mrs. M  , who has a peculiarly gentle
and, at the same time, decided mode of carrying her
point, and who, therefore, very naturally and agreeably
becomes the leader. One very willingly does that
which she wishes, because she is amiable, clever, and
full of suggestions. She made an agreement with the
boatmen, quickly dismissed the unreasonably rapacious,
and selected two brothers, two very nice young fellows,
who had their own boat, and were ready to take us in it,
at a reasonable rate, across the almost perfectly smooth
sea, between Baiae and Ischia, a sail, it was said, of, at
most, two hours.
We took our places, therefore, in the little red-
painted boat, rowed round Cape Miseno, below the
immense perpendicular rocky breast of which the sea
lay calm as a mirror, and as bright. On those heights,
it is said, formerly stood the summer residence of
Cornelia, the mother of the Gracchi ; there also Madame
de Stael placed her fascinating improvisatrice, Corinne,
and fascinated many, myself amongst the rest, when at
seventeen I became half crazy with the longing for the
life and land of Corinne. There is now nothing more
to see there excepting the grassy turf which covers the
earth, and the eternally lovely view on all sides.
We rowed by Procida. The lofty peak of Ischia
raised itself, though still distant, as if to meet us ; but
wind and waves, although not strong, were against us,
and the little voyage extended to upwards of four hours.
Night came on, and during the greater part of the sail
we saw nothing except the starry sky above, which
lighted us on our way, and the glow of Vesuvius, which

CORPUS DOMINI. 291
gleamed in the distance through the darkness of the
night. The air was moist, but not cold, and the sail not
without its peculiar wild charm. The elder of the two
rowers enlivened himself and his brother with
exclamations like the following — "Andiamo mangiare i
maccaroni ! Andiamo a Ischia per ballare la tarantella !
Viva il Re di Napoli ! E gli maccaroni, si ! Ma  amo
piu gli maccaroni che il Re di Napoli ! "
They sang also two barcaroles, with strong,, but not
very melodious voices.
A small light on the shore of Ischia announced to us
that we were approaching it. Towards midnight we
were there, and crossed our way in the darkness to the
good and celebrated hotel, " La Piccola Sentinella," in
the district of Casa Micciola. By daylight we were
greatly pleased with the island, especially with its
lofty, formerly volcanic, summit, its green dales, its
extensive views over the sea ; and when we discovered,
close to our excellent hotel, a little villa and garden on
a rock looking out upon the sea, with a spacious piazza
overshadowed with a leafy vine and a handsome and
eloquent young host, then we at once decided upon
staying there some days — that is to say, myself, Mrs.
M  and Mr. N  , Mr. S  wishing to return
to Naples, but promising afterwards to join us there.
The day after our arrival was the festival of Corpus
Domini on the island. The people decorated with
flowers and finery the altars which were erected at
intervals in the open air, and prepared lamps and
crackers for the evening's procession.
At the hour of Ave Maria the procession made its
appearance with a full military band, which played a
thundering march, and the crackers went off and the
lamps were lighted the whole length of the way through
the valley and up to Casa Micciola church. The
u2

292 A ROMANCE OF LIFE.
scene was beautiful, very noisy, and without any senti
ment of devotion.
The island is green as the colour of hope ; even the
hills are green almost to the very peak, Epomeo, which
raises its boldly pyramidal form 1,500 feet above
the sea. Around its base shine out little knolls,
golden with yellow broom. The volcano has been ex
tinct for six centuries, ever since the year 1245,
when, in a terrible eruption, its lava overflowed
half the island. Small towns and a great num
ber of country houses now shine out white on the
terraces and shore of the island, amongst cacti, fig-
trees, and blocks of lava. Many of the inhabitants of
Naples, as well as foreigners, come hither during the
summer months, to enjoy the air and the bathing,
partly of the warm baths, which the volcanic soil still
produces, and partly in the sea. The King of Naples
is also expected here this summer.
Our little travelling trio has been located a week at
Casa Pisani, where we have each our own apart
ment, opening upon the piazza, with a general dining
and drawing-room. I have, besides, a separate little
piazza looking to the sea, shaded by clematis, and
where green lizards are my, silent companions ; and this
solitude is indispensable to me, as I wish now to copy
out and put the last touches to my last work.
As regards my young travelling companions, it so
happens that, in their ramblings on the volcanic island,
amongst blocks of lava, groves of orange and fig-trees,
cacti, &c, they have fallen most earnestly in love
with each other ; and I am now the confidante of their
feelings and plans for the future, which naturally tend
to matrimony. I give the wisest advice I am able, and
especially recommend that they should take time to be
better acquainted with each other. The young lady

THE CALVARIO. 293
has won both my esteem and love, and her peace and
happiness lie very near my heart. In the meantime, it
is a pleasure to me to witness this beautiful affection,
which is not based on mere fascination, but on pure,
earnest regard.
The weather is glorious, but begins to be very warm.
The evenings and nights are the most beautiful por
tions of the twenty-four hours. We spend them on
the piazza in conversation, and also a little reading,
and seldom go to rest before midnight. The new moon
is now in the sky, and we often listen from our piazza
to the songs of the country people — always melan
choly tunes, with long, drawn-out, dying cadences. The
people of the island are of a handsome Italian type,
and are in part good-tempered and pleasant, in part
brutish, especially the younger generation, who not un
frequently salute us on our rambles by volleys of stones,
if their insatiable desire after bajocchi and grani is not
satisfied, which is impossible.
The music in the little church which is near is abomi
nable, a medley of inarches and dance music, besides
being very badly played. The church abounds with
representations of the Virgin, in oil-painting, carved in
wood, or moulded in wax, some old and ugly, others
dressed out like dolls, and a couple in long perukes.
Both the church and the service which is performed
within it show the decay of religion.
There is one scene, however, of actual religious life
which one frequently witnesses at the so-called Calvario,
a semi-circular open chapel between two roads, in which
one sees five black crosses, and a figure of the Virgin
on her knees at the foot of the largest cross, without
any image of Christ, but adorned with implements of
martyrdom. Lamps burn in the evening at the foot of
the cross, and bouquets of roses bloom ever fresh beside

294 LAPDOG LOST.
the knees of the Madonna. Upon the steps of this"
chapel may be seen sometimes during the day, and
always in the evening, men and women on their knees,
with the expression of the deepest devotion.
June 16ih. — St. Antonio is the patron saint of the
capital of Ischia ; and as his festival is to be celebrated
to-morrow with great solemnity, we have resolved to
avail ourselves of the occasion to become acquainted
with the chief town of our island. A pair of good
rowers will take us thither in less than an hour. The
little town, with its white houses and wooded gardens,
lies prettily on the shore, and the tall fortified rock,
Negrone, united to the town by a long bridge, gives it
an imposing character. It is said to be a home for po
litical prisoners. The people thronged in gaily to the
market, bought, and sold, and made ready for the fire
works. At five o'clock, amidst the jubilant ringing of
bells, the procession came, bearing the image of a young
Carmelite monk, the size of life. He held in his richly
ring-adorned hand a gaily-dressed doll, which was to
represent the child Jesus. A shower of yellow broom
was rained down by old women and girls over the
saint as he was carried along; thundering military
music attended him, and loud salvoes of artillery rolled
and rattled at each station where the image paused.
The priests who walked in the procession appeared the
least devotional of all the throng. One worthy father
walked along calmly, reading the while a newspaper.
During our visit to the gardens of the town Mrs.
M.'s little favourite dog was lost. As we began our
search after it we were followed by a whole train of
half-grown boys and girls, nearly all of whom begged
impudently, and almost demanded, bajocchi. Finding
myself surrounded by such a throng, I retired to the
shore and into the boat, where the boatmen endea-

YOUNG SAVAGES OF ISCHIA. 295
voured to keep off the pursuing crowd. Presently
Mrs. M  ¦ also made her appearance, together with
Mr. N  , who had succeeded in finding the little
dog, and now carried it in his arms. At the same
moment the shore was thronged with hundreds of the
hopeful youth of the town of both sexes, who all of
them, without any exception, wildly hooted, and
laughed, and yelled, and demanded money. Some
wanted it because they had sought for the dog, others
because they had seen him, others again for having
seen Mr. N  , who carried him, and all of them
because we were foreigners in the town ; and when,
after having given them some bajocchi, we put off from
the shore, young men and girls sprang after us into
the water, endeavouring to retain the boat, in which not
succeeding, they assailed us with yells, threatening
cries, and with a shower of stones, some of them suffi
ciently large to have seriously injured anyone whom
they might have struck. Nothing but the speed with
which our rowers removed us from the shore placed us
out of danger from these young savages, the subjects of
His Majesty the King of Naples, and the children of the
Papal Church. Mrs. M  was, after all, struck by a
stone as large as a common ball.
The wilful negligence evinced by the Romish Church
with regard to the education of the children produces
its own fruit, and will one day produce it in another
direction than they imagine. We, however, in our
little Villa Pisani, enjoy profound peace. Our host and
hostess, Crescens and his wife Irene, are particularly
well-disposed,, and agreeable. Crescens is a tolerable
cook, and prepares us excellent soups ; and the figs,
which are beginning to be ripe, are incomparable food.
We have, however, but little shade, nor is there much
upon the island; but these verdant heights, valleys^

296 EXTERNAL AND INTERNAL FIRE.
and pretty villas, and the vast surrounding sea, make it
picturesque, un vero paradiso, as our host assures me.
Mrs. M  is cheerful, kind, and full of animation
and enterprise. She is the life of our trio by land or
by water, and in the house : she has always some quiet
little device or other, and endless are her resources ;
for which reason we call her la dame aux bonnes iddes,
for French is the language which unites us three
travellers from different lands.
Our last glance every evening is to Vesuvius, the
red lava-streams of which we see gleam forth on the
horizon. The eruption seems about at an end, but the
great cone still adorns itself every day with a mag
nificent plume of heavy smoke-clouds.
June 20th. — The heat is so great, and  1 wonder
whether fires and certain little hopping creatures were
to be met with in the Paradise of Eden, as in our pa
radise of Ischia. Most assuredly not, because in that
case Adam and Eve would not have desired to go
there, and there would have been no need of cheru
bim with a flaming sword to drive them out ; a swarm
alone of persevering flies, such as we now have here,
would have been sufficient. Certain it is that they
remove all possibility of the quiet enjoyment of life,
for an incessant battle with flies is the most unavailing
and the most intolerable of all warfare. Besides which,
either owing to the still volcanic atmosphere of the
island, or of the Sirocco, daughter of the Simoom, the
heat is now so oppressive, the light of the sun so burn
ing, that they overcome me, poor child of the north,
and compel me to lie down on my bed many times in
the course of the day.
My enamoured couple, on the contrary, seem to be
little conscious of the outer heat, if all be but well with
the inner ! — and as they are continually walking or

THE ENCHANTED ISLAND. 297
sitting out in the air, they are less annoyed by the
flies, &c, than I am, who spend the forenoon quietly
in my own room. I am resolved to seek for a more
shaded home where the air is fresher, and shall there
fore return in the morning with the lovers to
Naples, in order to go thence to Sorrento. Our host
makes the most beautiful speeches against my determi
nation, saying —
" Signora, I am very much concerned at your inten
tion of leaving this place. 1 and my wife have really
become attached to your Excellency. I love you as
my mother — -nay, almost more than my mother — and I
will do all I can to serve you. And I'll tell you what
— and you'll remember my word — there is no place so
fresh and so healthful as this island, where the sea goes
round, around, around, around {intorno, intorno, in-
torno). You may go to Sorrento, to Castellamare, to
whatever place you like, and you will find reason to
say — ' Crescens was right, after all ; the air is nowhere
so fresh as at Ischia, and it cannot be otherwise,
because there the sea goes round, around, around,
around ! ' "
But not all the eloquence of Crescens can persuade
me. I shall set off in the morning.
Ischia, July 7th. — I am still detained here, in the
first place, by my countryman, Mr. S  , who, the
very morning we were intending to leave, made his
appearance from Naples, looking pale and out of order.
The state of things in Naples, according to his ex
pression, was intolerable, terrible, and the air as if in
fected ; and, in the second place, by some secret magic
power, which I begin to suspect belongs to this
island. The state of my poor countryman's health seemed to
me dangerous. I, therefore, had my luggage removed

298 STORM, AND THE KING'S ARRIVAL.
from the boat, and the lovers set off alone. My best
wishes go with them, especially with the unusually
amiable young lady, who will meet her relatives in
Rome, and arrange with them respecting her new en
gagement. Mr. S  relates to me the state of things in
Naples — that the heat is stifling, that dysentery has
broken out, and that people keep themselves alive by
drinking Pozzuoli water, the sulphurous ingredients of
which are not distasteful to the Neapolitans, though
abominable to foreigners. In the evening the Chiaja
Santa Lucia is crowded with people, who sit drinking
glass after glass of this water, which is brought to
Naples in large casks.
The day after the lovers departed the air was re
freshed here by a magnificent storm. Such lightning
and thunder! — such tempests of wind and torrents of
rain ! — such clouds and waterspouts ! — such darkness
in the air — it was an incomparably grand spectacle !
Vessels were driven on shore and wrecked — others got
out to sea, even amidst the storm, and were thus pro
bably saved from the same fate. After raging for
some hours the storm dispersed ; the mountains again
stood forth from sea and cloud ; the sun made his way
through masses of vapour; the atmosphere and I were
both considerably refreshed, and his majesty, the King
of Naples, in a magnificent steamer, which seemed
to fly over the sea, passed this place on his way to the
town of Ischia, where he has a summer residence.
White flags waved from various houses, and in the
evening lamps were lighted. The king is tolerably po
pular here, and people are pleased at his arrival.
The Midsummer week has brought storms, dark
clouds, and cool weather, such as I have never wit
nessed at this season in my high northern latitudes.

THE PRINCESS ELLA AND HER CHAMPION. 299
But the storms and the abundant showers of rain have
refreshed the air ; flies and other creatures are gone,
and the state of things is improved both for soul and
body. The island rises gloriously green out of the
dark blue waves, which break in foam upon its shore.
During one of these stormy days the young father
less and motherless girl from Rocca Tarpeia came light
and gay as a bird — came alone across the agitated sea —
the pretty child with her delicate figure, her abundant
hair, her thoughtful eyes, her thoughtful rich soul, her
beautiful voice, and her gift of singing — my summer-
daughter ; the girl with the many names, Puck, Puss,
Psyche, and to whom I gave two new names after I
had become better acquainted with her. She is now
called by me the Princess Elsa. Hast thou read the
pretty saga about her? — but in my heart I designate
her " my summer-daughter." How she could manage
to arrive alone, amidst the rapacious facchini, who
watch for strangers on the shores of Ischia, and fight
for them and their baggage sometimes furiously, bloodily
— I cannot comprehend. But heaven watches over the
, fatherless, and now sent her a protector in a gentleman
of herculean figure, who almost at the same time with
herself arrived at the island in another boat ; and when
he happened to see the solitary young lady surrounded
by the rude and savage fellows, he constituted himself
her champion, delivered her by means of his cane and
his strong hands from the ruffianly crowd, and con
ducted the trembling, but at the same time calm and
cheerful young girl, safe and sound to Villa Pisani, a
mile and a half distant from the shore, and to me, who
was not in the least expecting to see her here.
Thus we are now four inmates of Villa Pisani ; and a
very harmonious quartette we are, with the same
drawing-room — the common piazza with its lofty arch

300 ESPIONAGE.
— and the same table. The strange gentleman whom,
from his athletic proportions, we call Hercules, is one
of the Waldenses, a merchant from Turin, with the
demeanour and conversation of a gentleman and man
of intellect, a fine observant glance, and an expression
of kindness and candour in his countenance which in
spires confidence.
Mr. Waldo, as we now call him, not as yet knowing
his proper name, is travelling for his own pleasure in
Italy, and intends visiting the East. He appears to be
about forty, and seems so to have arranged his outward
affairs as to be at liberty to pursue his own pleasure.
Although he is in his intercourse somewhat reserved,
yet he is a pleasant companion, and our evenings spent
together are especially agreeable. We pass them, now
that the weather is again beautiful, in an arbour in the
garden, open to the sea. There we also take our
supper. Sometimes little Elsa sings, now German,
now Neapolitan songs, which are delightful to hear,
because she is really musical, and her voice goes to the
heart. She executes trills as easily as a bird sings.
The presence of the King of Naples at Ischia makes
itself felt by a watchfulness and an espionage which
appear very extraordinary to us. You see armed
guards on every road, and the agents of police have
come three times to our unpretending villa to examine
our passports and have a look at us. We were called
out, therefore, each one of us separately, except the
youngest, who said that she was quite offended at
being treated with so little respect. The next evening
they came accompanied by a guard with handcuffs.
They were in search of a certain M. Adolphe, who was
charged with having sent the king an uncivil and
threatening letter, and who was said to be probably
at the present time in Ischia, in company with another

THE KING AND HIS TERRORS. 301
gentleman and a lady. My countryman, Mr. S-

and .myself, seemed now to be suspected of being the
dangerous persons in question, and the king had offered
a reward of fifty scudi for the apprehension of Monsieur
Adolphe. So many impediments in Naples are thrown
in the way of such as desire to come to Ischia now
that the king is here, that people are leaving the
island and going to other bathing-places.
We have occasionally in our rambles met the king,
sometimes with the queen, sometimes with the royal
children. The king himself drives the little carriage
with its pair of handsome horses. He looks like a well-
conditioned butcher; the countenance not ugly, rather
the contrary, but quite too fat. He looks around him
with a restless, hasty glance. The Queen's counte
nance is still youthful and agreeable, but with a some
thing so sad in her expression, that one can see plainly
that the cheerful sun of Italy does not shine for her.
She is said not to have a happy disposition. She
dresses in the most simple style, and her mode of salu
tation is graceful. The carriage is always attended by
armed guards, mounted and on foot. The princes and
princesses are handsome children, and there are a great
number of them. If the king be expected at any
point, the guards are there stationed, and clear the
road of strangers who may seem to be waiting for him,
together with all such as are suspected of a desire to
present petitions. The timidity of the king seems to
be unusually great, and must be a terrible appendix to
his crown. It is true that the murderous attacks on
his life have been numerous. It is said that his first
wife, who lived and died as a saint, was able more than
once, by her dreams, to give him warning of such
attempts. We, innocently suspected inmates of the Villa Pisani,

302 UN VERO PARADISO.
had in the meantime increasing enjoyment of our lives,
which became, with each succeeding day, more ani
mated and agreeable. Not only did Mr. Waldo — who
had now, however, by his visiting-card, made us ac
quainted with his name — but whom I shall nevertheless
continue to call so when I do not designate him Her
cules — not only did he become every day more agree
able, by his superior tone of conversation and his gen
tlemanly manners, and little Psyche still gayer, Mr.
S  better in health and state of mind, but our villa
acquired also new life from the wandering troubadours
who came in the evenings with their guitar or mandolin
and sang Neapolitan songs, or played to the boys who
danced the tarantella. These natural singers have
neither pure nor beautiful voices, but they are often
strong, and always full of expression; and they sing
the fascinating Neapolitan folk-song, " Santa Lucia,"
with a passion which made the heart beat, spite of the
false notes of the song. It was sung with greater
beauty and purity by Psyche. The bright side of the
natural and popular life of Naples is expressed in the
words and music of this song.
We have a superabundance of cherries and figs, and
they could scarcely be more beautiful even in Paradise.
I begin to think that Crescens was not wrong when he
called the island un vero Paradiso. To its enjoyments
must now be added that of bathing. We take our
pleasure of this kind in a sort of arbour, or grotto,
opening to the sea. The Princess Elsa dances there
like a most lovely Naiad ; her head bound with a white
handkerchief, has then a striking resemblance to that of
Beatrice Cenci, in the portrait by Leonardo da Vinci.
Amongst our excursions at this time must be men
tioned that to the island of Procida, the chief town of
which, Maria Cattolica, is one of the filthiest little

POLITICAL OFFENDERS. 303
towns we have yet seen in Italy, and where we were
pursued by youth as by a swarm of flies, occasionally
chased away by the police, but always to return anew.
Amongst the population, which is said to be wholly of
Greek origin, we saw many remarkably handsome, nay,
regularly beautiful countenances. We induced, by
means of good words and money, a couple of women
to dress themselves in their holiday attire, which we
had heard praised for its splendour. The rich gold
embroidery, and the beautiful silk stuff, were the most
remarkable parts of it. It was Sunday, and nearly all
the women we saw had white cloths round their heads,
put on in a peculiar, but becoming manner. The
upper part of the town lies very high, and the view
thence is glorious. ' There is here also a prison for
political offenders, amongst whom are now a number of
priests, because many of the lower order of the priest
hood in Naples, and even in Rome, took part in the
revolution in 1848. As regards the treatment of these
prisoners, a circumstance has been related to me which
I will not repeat in writing, because I am not sure of
its truth ; but if it be true, it is sufficient to explain the
derivation of the King of Naples' fear of ghosts.
Amongst our pedestrian excursions I will merely
mention that to the town of Forli, during which we
saw a good deal of the island. It is well cultivated
and populous. The people are themselves the pos
sessors of their small farms, and are all very well off
when the vintage is good. After the failure of several
years — owing to the disease of the grape — the present
promises to be a good season, and the clusters increase
daily in size and beauty under the hot sun. One sees,
not unfrequently, handsome young men and women,
at the little picturesque homesteads under the shade
of the vine and the fig-tree, but still more frequently

304 POETICAL NAMES.
old women who look angry and evil like old witches.
The dialect of the people is difficult to understand, and
it sounds unmelodious to the ear of a stranger. The
words are abbreviated in a manner which makes them
unintelligible ; for instance, instead of saying Signor,
they say merely yor ; instead of Napoli, merely Napo ;
instead of memento, momo ; instead of lume, lu ; instead
of fragole (strawberries), fra ; and so on. Out of pure
laziness and carelessness, these good people seem to be
approaching nearer and nearer to an animal language
of the simplest sounds.
The names of persons are much more poetical than
they themselves. Thus our little maid at the Villa
Pisani is called Maria Grazia, but is as little akin to
the Graces as possible ; and a young girl in the next
garden, called Philomene, sings, it is true, but with a
voice as hard as copper. Even the donkeys on the
island have poetical names — one is called mezza notte,
another grotta Sabina, and so on. These animals are
good and safe for riding, the best of their kind with
which I have yet become acquainted. We have re
ceived a good impression only of the people in our
neighbourhood. As a boatman on our little sea excur
sions, we have taken an elderly sailor, Francesco, who
is pious and well-mannered, and always satisfied with
what we give him, for which reason he gets more than -
others less good-humoured and contented would do.
The moment we make our appearance in the evening
on the shore a loud cry is heard from the people there,
" Francesco ! Francesco !" and no one would think it
right to offer his services before he came. Francesco
and our laundress, Teresina, belong to that class of
people who are agreeable to deal with in all countries,
from the stamp which they bear of goodness and sound
sense. Our host, Crescens, is assuredly the chief of

A NEW ROMANCE. 305
benevolent and eloquent inn-keepers. We never lock
the doors of our rooms — nor, indeed, could they be
locked — when we are out for half a day or whole days
together, and we leave all our small properties about
with perfect security.
Is it the influence of the volcanic nature of our
island ? — as I begin to suspect ; or of a higher Pro
vidence? — as I secretly believe; but, be it what it may,
I foresee a new flame, and, perhaps, a new union. Mr.
Waldo — our Hercules — begins to bind up bouquets of
flowers and to place them before Psyche's door in the
morning, and, in the meantime, to pay her other suffi
ciently significant attentions. She as yet, however,
foresees nothing, neither chooses to do so, because she
never intends to be married, and, least of all, to Her
cules. A certain prince of Villa Ombrosa has cast
every other man into the shade, in my summer-
daughter's soul — and she will not listen to this sug
gestion. When I, to-day, asked her what she would
think of Mr. AValdo as a husband ? the Princess Elsa
stared at me, looked half-offended, and assured me that
she could never think of him in that character. She
felt esteem for him, confidence in him, but  no, I
never, impossible ! I am sorry that she feels it so
" impossible," because it seems to me that they two
would suit each other exactly. He 13 twenty years
older than she, it is true, but a fatherly friend is pre
cisely that which my summer-daughter requires in her
husband. That poetical, artistic nature, which is re
gardless of the merely earthly, which can hardly take
care of her own life and her own peace — that gifted
but facile child is so unusually lonely in the world!
Waldo, on the other hand, is of a combative nature ;
he has fought his way up through life, and now stands
there, both spiritually and temporally, on a firm basis.
VOL. II. X

306 HOW WILL IT SPEED ?
But this same firm nature has in it something singularly
tender and affectionate. When he was a child, early
motherless, and very solitary in his father's house, he
endeavoured to catch little birds, merely for the plea
sure of looking after them, of making them tame and
happy. And I suspect that it is also something of the
same kind which leads him to try, with kind words and
flowers, to catch the little Princess Elsa. Yet he evi
dently loves also in her the earnest and nobly-thinking
young woman, with her decided sympathies for the
rights and well-being of humanity, and her fervent
hatred of all violence and injustice. There is in this
slight girl a great moral courage, and that he saw at
the moment when he became her protector. She has
an especially warm feeling for the Italian people —
considers them to be misunderstood and ill-treated,
and in this she and I entirely sympathize.
" If any one," said she to me, one day, " speaks ill
of the Italians, I feel as if they trampled upon my
heart !"
I have besought of her not hastily to reject the offer
of Waldo's hand, if — as I have a presentiment — it be
made. Amongst the many such offers that she has had,
it seems to me that, all things taken into consideration,
not one of them was to be compared with this ; and that
the Prince of Villa Ombrosa is not to be depended upon.
Our stay at Ischia is now just at an end, because a
Signora Napolitana, who has long been expected, is now
coming, and will occupy my room, the only one in
which I could here write in peace ; and this allows me to
accomplish my long-cherished plan of going in an open
sailing boat to Sorrento — no steamer passing between
the islands — in order to spend there the remainder of
the summer. My summer-daughter will accompany me.
A gigantic boatman, and a great fighter amongst the

"WE APPEAR IN COSTUME. 307
fishermen on the shore, has undertaken to convey us
thither in his boat, safe and sound, in four or five hours.
He says that " he loves me like his mother," and desires
me " to cut off his head, or to give him a bastinado," if he
do not perform what he promises. I intend to set off
the morning after to-morrow ; I have mentioned this my
intention to our Hercules to-day, whereupon he looked
somewhat thoughtful, but said nothing.
And now, farewell Ischia and the Ischiotes !
Ischia, July 10th. — Most certainly Ischia has some-
thins: in common with one of the enchanted islands of
the Odyssey ! Most certain it is that one cannot leave
it when one will. Contrary winds and a rough sea, la
Signora Napolitana, who has not yet made her appear
ance, and certain other considerations, have caused me
yet to linger here some days — not unwillingly, because
Ischia has become very agreeable and dear to me. In
the meantime, the following circumstance has occurred
here. The day before yesterday, Mr. S  was so much
excited by the improved state of his health, and a
guitar which he brought with him from Naples, that he
proposed to us that we should the next morning break
fast in costume. We consented, and the following
morning we all entered our common room from the
piazza in a state of transformation, and with loud ex
clamations as we beheld each other. The grave Wal-
densian had taken the most pains with his costume, and
was with admirable ingenuity accoutred as an anti-
brigand, as he called it, which gave him a most terrific
appearance. My blond countryman, with blackened
legs and arms, was no bad representation of the Neapo
litan fisherman in his summer attire, with a red cap
and guitar. Psyche entered with a garland of dark-
red roses round her brown hair, dressed Hke a flower-
X2

308 THE WITHERED WREATH.
girl — most charming ! I wore a red head gear, such as
the country-women wear, and had my black polka
bordered with passion-flowers. They said that I re
sembled a Sibyl. We breakfasted in our costumes in
the shade of the vine-leaves, at a flower-adorned table,
very merry, and to the great amusement of the people
of our villa, who came to see us, and who were espe
cially delighted with our " Signor Briganti," as they
persisted in calling him, however much he endeavoured
to prove to them, by the details of his costume, that he
was an'anti-brigand, armed merely with the weapons of
peace. In the evening Mr. S  still enacted the
troubadour, and Psyche still wore her wreath of dark
red roses. When she took it off Hercules wished to
appropriate it to himself; but the Princess Elsa
answeredso decidedly, saying, with such strong emphasis,
" Non, vous n'aurez pas mes roses ! — non ! " that he gave
up the attempt. Next morning, however, he possessed
himself of the withered wreath, which he found an op
portunity of taking when it had been left for Irene to
throw away. This little scene, that of the costumes —
which is quite in Swedish character — amused us
all. We found our bath to-day more than usually refresh
ing and agreeable ; and whilst we were afterwards
enjoying the coolness in the shade of our leafy grotto,
and Psyche was more than usually interesting in her
biographical annotations on life and mankind — her
views of life are not very cheerful — I ^began to speak
with her somewhat more decidedly on her own future,
and of what might be expected on the part of Hercules.
She herself was now not without suspicions and some
uneasiness in consequence. She was seriously con
cerned on the subject ; because " it would have been
much better if earnestness had not interfered with the

ELSA'S LIFE — EXPERIENCE. 309
sport of the present time. She did not wish to grieve
him ; she felt esteem for hirn, and could confide in
him — nay, she was also grateful to him for his chivalric
help in her time of need; but never — no never could
she feel any warmer sentiment towards him ! "
I listened to the young girl's narratives, which
always evinced an unusually deep insight, keen ob
servation, and a high-minded character, though, at the
same time, anything but a happy view of life. Her
own experience had been to her a severe educator;
her life had been driven like a little boat in the tem
pest — and so it was at the present time, although
the boat at this moment rested in the shadow of an
island. Deep religious faith, and deep feeling for the
beautiful in nature and in art, as well as the natural
elasticity of the youthful mind, have preserved her from
despondency, if not from a tendency to melancholy
mistrust of earthly life, and of that progress towards
happiness about which people now generally talk so
much. I see this more clearly every day, in the
depths of her soul ; but I love, every day more and more,
to look down into their depths, for there are wonderful
things there, beaming stars, corals, genuine pearls,
flowers, and fantastic forests of mystic algae and mosses,
amongst which it is not easy to make one's way ; but
all this lies open to the day, as in the pious and candid
soul of a child. I see too all the more clearly, that the
little boat needs a good helmsman ; that my little prin
cess in her imaginative life and career needs a tender,
fatherly friend, who, like the good pine-tree in the saga
of Elsa, shades, loves, comforts, and instructs her,
whilst he points out to her the right way.
This was again impressed upon my mind at our con
versation after the bath, and called forth those
remarks of mine which awoke her uneasiness. But we

310 A DECLARATION.
perhaps disturbed ourselves unnecessarily. Probably
nothing serious may occur. Our Hercules is as polite
as a Frenchman or an Italian, and those beautiful com
plimentary speeches are, it is possible, nothing more.
I besought the young girl, however, not to make her
self too secure, and spoke about the volcanic influences
of the island. The conversation finally turned into
joke ; and such being the case, we left our leafy grotto,
and went down to the shore, where he was now stand
ing under a large umbrella, in the heat of the sun,
waiting for — her. They two walked on first, and I fol
lowed afterwards, at some distance, with Mr. S  ,
who came from his bath. We walked leisurely,
because the path was ascending, and the heat was
great, although the large trees cast thick shadow.
Again in my room, I saw little Elsa creeping like a
lizard along the wall, and in through the curtain,
with a look of mingled archness and uneasiness which
immediately told me what had occurred.
It was so. It had come ! Hercules had during the
walk made his declaration, and asked whether he might
be permitted to hope? He does not require now,
after so short an acquaintance, a decided yes, only
that she will allow him to accompany her to Sorrento,
to dedicate to her his attention, his devotion, and in
this -manner enable him also to become better ac
quainted with her. If she will allow this he will give
up his intended journey to Greece and the East, and
remain here. He had spoken in a manly and cordial
manner, and besought her not to forbid bis wish of
accompanying us to Sorrento.
" Very good, Elsa, and what has been your
answer?" "What has been my answer? If I only knew it
myself — half words and half thoughts; I was so as-

WILLING TO WAIT. 311
tonished, so taken by surprise ! It was, however, my
intention to say no, and that he perfectly understood.
He thanked me for my candour with a certain cold
dignity, but I think, nevertheless, that he did not con
sider that as my final answer."
I prayed her earnestly not to be too hasty, but
to take time. I had the firm belief that she might and
would be happy with Hercules — that he was a man who
would give a dignity, a calmness, and a charm to life —
that he was exactly the fatherly friend and protector
that she required. She acknowledged to entertaining
feelings for him of esteem and confidence, more than
she had felt for any other man ; but love, marriage —
no, never, never ! "
I advised her never to say never ; to be honest with
him, but to leave a decisive answer to the future, and
to further acquaintance. And with this the subject
was dropped for the present.
In the meantime, it is evident that Hercules does
not consider himself to be rejected by her no, and that
he does not think of going to the East before he has
yet once more propounded his question. His calm
ness and good humour prevent any want of har
mony in our quartette, in consequence of that which
has occurred, and this re-assures her, and places her at
her ease. He has, in the meantime, explained him
self to me in a manner which has won my esteem and
sympathy. " I love her," he said, " and I am in that fortunate
position that I can devote to her all that care and
attention which she requires. I see that she suffers,
and that her health requires the air of the South. I
can take her to any country she wishes; I have no
other desire than to inake her happy ; and if the best
will on my part, the most faithful attention to her

312 PROS AND CONS.
well-being can make her so, then I, too, shall be
happy." " But you know so little of her. as yet. She is a
fascinating girl, with a rich soul, but she will never
make a practical housewife ? "
He laughed. " That does not trouble me much. It
is not that for which I am seeking in a wife. I seek
for a friend and a companion in life ; some one whom I
can love and make happy. She is good, noble-minded,
naive, original. Only to be near her, to hear her
warbling every day, would be to me an inexhaustible
source of happiness. If she be not practical, as you
say, in a house, or if she take no pleasure in domestic
management, I can so arrange it that she need not
trouble herself about such things farther than she
herself has inclination. Whether she has any pro
perty or not I do not inquire, neither, do I trouble
myself about it. I have sufficient for us both. That
which I fear is, that her heart is already pre-occupied.
One can see that she suffers ; but even that makes
her dearer, more amiable to me, more estimable. I
beg of you to tell her so, and that I now desire, not
love, but time, confidence, and the opportunity of
showing her how sincerely I am and will be her
friend." These words pleased me very much, for I saw that
they proceeded from a kind and honest heart. After
wards Waldo gave me more ample details of his family,
of his outward position, property, and general circum
stances ; all of which were of the happiest description.
He is a banker in Turin; has his own house and
home, and a beautiful villa in one of the Waldensian
valleys, on the banks of one of their clear mountain-
streams, in the midst of chestnut woods. This villa he
especially reckons upon as a befitting home for his

THE STUARTS. 313
little Princess during the heat of the Italian summers.
All this seemed to me delightful and excellent for the
orphan girl. But will the Princess Elsa wish to spin silk
in the inartificial valleys of the Waldenses ? I have
assured him of my advocacy and my sympathy ; but
my summer-daughter must be left free to choose.
We made this evening a boat excursion to the little
town of Lacco and the handsome Villa Arbusti, which
is situated high above it, where we were invited by
the amiable English family of Mr. Stuart, and where
we spent the evening. Mrs. Stuart is an interesting
and very intellectual lady. From Mrs. F  we
heard much that was interesting regarding India,
whence she had lately come, and where she had been a
sufferer in the dangers and horrors of the frightful
war then going forward, but to which country she
longed to return, to purchase land and lay out a farm
in the mountainous district, where she wishes to live
with her children. The character of the scenery in
this district seems to have the paradisaic proportions of
the strong and the lovely, whilst the climate is exqui
sitely beautiful.
We returned to our villa beneath a brilliant starry
sky and upon a delightfully rocking sea. Every stroke
of the oars produced a whole swarm of shining me
dusas, twinkling points, and drops of fire. Psyche
sang " Santa Lucia," and finally all of us joined her. I
will here give this lovely barcarolle, " vera barcarola
popolare," in the hope that it may soon have a worthy
translator : —

314

SANTA LUCIA.

"VERA BARCAROLA POPOLARE."
Il Baecajuolo di Santa Lucia. *

Sul mare luccica
L'astro d'argento,
Placido e Fonda
Prospero e il vento.
Venite all' agile
Barchetta mia
Santa Lucia !
Santa Lucia !

Mare si placido
Vento si caro
Secondar far i triboli
Al mari-naro
E na gridando
Con allegria
Santa Lufiia !
Santa Lucia !

Con questo Zeffiro
Cosi soave
Oh ! com' e bello
Star su la nave !
Su passaggiere
Venite via
Santa Lucia !
Santa Lucia !

In fra le tende
Bandir la cena
In una sera
Cosi serena
Chi non domanda
Chi non desia ?
Santa Lucia !
Santa Lucia !

O ! dolce Napoli,
O ! suol beato
Ove sorridere
Voile il creato,
Tu sei l'impero
Dell' armonicalf
Santa Lucia !
Santa Lucia !
6
Or che tardate
Bella e la sera
Spira un auretta
Fresca e leggiera :
Venite all' agile
Barchetta mia!
Santa Lucia !
Santa Lucia !

Ischia, July 13th. — Ischia is decidedly an enchanted
island ; and I begin to find our stay here is still more
remarkable — " quite a little Odyssey," says my sum-
* The poetical name for Naples and its population. — Author's
note.

t They also sing :-

Tu sei l'impero
Dell' alma mia.

SAIL ROUND THE ISLAND. 315
mer-daughter. Our sail round the island on the pre
ceding Friday deserves its own especial chapter.
We had an excellent sailing-boat and five stout sea
men for our little voyage. The weather at the com
mencement promised well, but when we rounded Point
Vico we had contrary wind and a rough sea. The
rocks on the south side of the island — we live on the
north — are lofty, wild, and perpendicular, and the open
sea hurls its billows against them, without their force
being broken either by the islands or any protecting
capes. We had experience of this in a manner- which
was not agreeable, and we longed much for the bay
of St. Angelo, where the sailors said we should come
into smoother water, and where also we were to dine.
Arrived here, we found only rocks and a sandy coast,
upon which the waves rolled foamingly. Upon these
and the backs of the sailors we were obliged, each
one in turn, to be carried to land, whilst our boat
lay at anchor, tossed about mercilessly by the rolling
naiades. We spread our dinner upon the sand, with a sail
for a table-cloth, in the shadow of a rock, and were
objects of interesting observation to some fishermen's
families, who came from the rocks for that purpose,
and whom Hercules afterwards amused himself by
treating to rum, for the fun of seeing their terror, and,
at the same time, enjoyment, of the burning liquor.
We then continued the voyage, .sailing, with but little
wind, to the capital of the island. The colour of the
sea was, during the whole time, of that wonderfully
beautiful metallic blue which almost induced one to
take it up into one's hand to convince oneself that it
was really nothing else but common sea water. The
waves gleamed in the sunlight like the polished facets
of that immeasurable sapphire. The most interesting

316 HOT SPRINGS — ISCHIA TOWN.
feature of the excursion was the distinct view which
it afforded us of the island, which is, perhaps, more
than almost any other benefited by human enterprise
and industry. Sea-birds build in caves of the wildest
and most naked rocks, and these are taken by watchful
fowlers. You see, also, in the face of almost perpen
dicular cliffs, flights of steps hewn out, which lead to
otherwise inaccessible places between the shore and the
heights. Everywhere, wherever a littie soil has col
lected itself in the clefts of the rocks, tiny fields or
vineyards are seen. The whole island may be compared
to a large vine-covered hill.
The hot springs — which are found here in great
numbers — seem to heighten the temperature of the
soil, and to maintain it in a state of constant fertility.
The little hills with which the island abounds, especi
ally on the north and east, are gloriously verdant, even
in the heat of summer, and have a luxuriant growth of
laurels, myrtles, arbor-vita?, and broom. You see vine
yards carried up almost to the very summit of Monte
Epomeo. Up in this mountain, in caves partly natural
and partly the work of man, lives a hermit, of whose
history romantic circumstances are related, but who
himself has no longer a romantic appearance.
Several boats were lying on the sea, along the
southern coast, belonging to the coral-fishers, who rake
up from the deep, with iron hands, these precious
growths of the ocean. The shores of the island are
rich in these, as well as in every kind of frutte di mare.
We saw at the city of Ischia, the magnificent Marina
Reale, beautiful plantations of trees, and the King of
Naples with his court. He is a large man, and was
talking with animation.
We returned to our villa, after our voyage round
the island had occupied about nine hours.

ROMANTIC INCIDENTS. 317
The day before yesterday we had a violent storm,
and it was as cold as autumn ; the same also yesterday,
so that we are obliged to wait for better weather
before leaving our enchanted island, if, in truth, the
enchantress be present there. She endeavours, indeed,
to console and enchant us with glorious sun-sights in
the evenings — sights of such splendour and magni
ficence that one feels a solemnity in them as if they
revealed a divinity. Nevertheless, I have not entire
faith in her; and certain it is that Hercules becomes
every day fonder of " that child," as he calls little Elsa,
who rules him without herself being aware of it, nay,
even against her will, for she does not love him, and
tells him so, but, nevertheless, he is not intending to
go to the East ; on the contrary, he will, a toute force,
accompany us across to Sorrento, in order to take
charge of us on the way, and after that return hither
till  what further happens. And we cannot refuse
such a protector.
I must add to the romantic incidents of my month's
residence at Ischia, a letter from my winter-daughter,
my young Swedish friend, who announces to me her
betrothal with young Baron S  ; another letter from
my little Swiss sister, Louise C  , who is preparing
for her marriage and bridal tour, and for her new
home on the enchanting lake of Geneva ; in the same
category stands also that final completion of my latest
written novel, which, in the meantime, closes in a
manner quite opposite to the last-mentioned romances.
But the romance of youth is over with me, and appears
to me now merely as one chapter in the great romance
of human life, in which God is the hero, and the
heroine the human soul. Everything else is prelude
or episode.
I cannot leave our volcanic island without speaking

318 VITTORIA COLONNA.
of one of its most beautiful memories. Vittoria Co
lonna, Marchioness of Pescara, spent here several years
of her life, and found, under great sorrow, consolation
in the beautiful art which made her the most cele
brated poetess of Italy. Her first poems are dedicated
to the husband whose loss dimmed the sun of her
existence. A change then occurred in her life; she
beheld a new sun, and, like a phoenix purified in the
flames of suffering, she raised her wings towards it, and
still more beautiful and clearer became her song, per
meated by the glow of the purest love, of the highest
yearning. Her life resembled her song. In an age of
conflict and disruption, and amidst a race the members
of which combated one against another in the frantic
strife of party — she came forth as a reconciling angel;
and when she could not avert the conflict, she still lived
to heal its wounds. To this purpose she applied her
large property, her personal influence as a beautiful,
noble, and highly-gifted woman, even her personal
activity also as a Sister of Mercy in the Clarissa
convent of Rome, where she loved to withdraw herself
from the world. It was in Rome, in the year 1536,
that she became acquainted with Michael Angelo Buo
narotti, and was beloved and sung of by him as a higher
being. That powerful nature which hitherto had loved
exclusively the strong, the extraordinary, the Titanic,
was moved by her to the love of a higher beauty.
His Madonna, in his picture of the Last Judgment,
his Three Fates, remind the spectator of the perfectly
beautiful and gentle features of Vittoria Colonna.
When she died Michael Angelo stood by her bed and
kissed her hand. "Several days afterwards," relates
his pupil, Condivi, " he was quite beside himself, and,
as it were, frenzied by sorrow; and I remember to have
heard him say that nothing grieved him more than that

SORRENTO. 319
when he saw her departed from this life he had not
kissed her face as he kissed her hand."
Vittoria Colonna was suspected by many of sympa
thizing with the reformers' movement, although there is
no positive proof of the fact. But could it, indeed, be
otherwise ? The noble, ever upward-glancing, ever
upward-ascending woman must herself accept every
movement the object of which was to raise the human
spirit nearer to the source of truth. Her life was a
romance on a grand scale.
Sorrento, July 19th. — The sirens sing no longer, it is
said, on the ancient coast and islands of Syrentum, but
here it is still thought may be seen traces of their abode.
Here I behold at last the soil of Italy, as we, in the
North, imagine it to be, full of orange and lemon groves,
pomegranates and laurels, and vines which fling their
branches, heavy with clusters of grapes, from one tree-
top to another — all the natural produce of the sun-
warmed, fertile earth. The grave olive-trees with their
contorted stems, the dark pines, the lofty fig-trees and
acacias, stand by the way-sides. The sea shines in the
splendour of its azure, before the rocky terraces, based
on the caves of Ulysses, along the shore ; whilst the
Bay of Naples, and the soft valley from which its
dwellings ascend, are seen from this point in the highest
beauty. We have found excellent quarters in the Hotel de
la Campagne. We intended, in the first instance,
only to avail ourselves of it provisionally ; but the
spacious and excellent rooms, with views, on the one
hand, into an orange-grove, the fruit- laden branches of
which almost enter our windows — and, on the other, into
a large square ; the quietness of the house, where we
are the only guests — the order, the ready attention of
the waiters, the clever and agreeable host and hostess,

320 THE STORMY PASSAGE.
have decided us to remain here, because we could
scarcely desire to be better off. The hotel has its own
baths, where we bathe every day in the clearest water,
upon a floor of the finest sand ; and this bath is the
greatest pleasure of the day. The Princess Elsa,
hitherto a little depressed by the late occurrences, has
here become herself again, and leaps and dances on the
soft sand-floor, as lightly and as gaily as ever did her
namesake of Elsa-dale
" And Hercules, and "  1 will wager anything, my
R., that it is you who, full of curiosity, ask this
question. He accompanied us hither from Ischia.
" The wind was excellent for Torrento," said my tall
" son," the sailor and fighter, who promised, at the risk
of his head, or of a bastinadoing, to convey us safely
thither. The wind, however, became quite violent as
we approached the Bay of Procida, and the waves were
high. We made a bed for little Psyche in the bottom
of the boat, where she lay pale, with closed eyes, during
the whole voyage, watched over by Waldo with fatherly
or motherly tenderness. I, who was responsible for her,
was not without anxiety; but the wind fell, and, in
order to make way through the high sea, it was
necessarv also for the helmsman to assist in rowing. I
therefore took the helm, and again was quite calm and
at my ease, as soon as from a passive spectator it was
necessary for me to take an active part. 1 kept the
boat in a direct course to " la piccola Marina ; " reached
there happily after five hours' sailing, and was glad to
avail myself of Hercules's arm to support the poor,
little half-fainting girl. She recovered herself, however,
by degrees in the Hotel de la Campagne, resting on a
sofa, whilst I prepared for our little dinner a refreshing
salad of pomi-d'oro, oil and vinegar.
Hercules took his leave the same evening, as a man

TWELVE FEMALE FRIENDS 1 321
and gentleman, in order during the night to return to
Ischia, and there await some word which should allow
him to return to Sorrento. But the Princess Elsa, out
of sorts from her indisposition on the passage, and by —
I know not what — was unmanageable and determined
— never to say yes. She should never marry ; she had
a number of female friends — twelve, I believe — several of
whom had need of her, and for these she would live ;
she would go and teach singing in the beautiful little
Kindergartens of Germany, as soon as she could leave
Italy, which she loved so much for its beauty and its art;
she would live for friendship, for beauty, for these little
children, and I — said nothing against it ! Perhaps
such a life as this might be better suited to so delicate
and ethereal a being than married life, with its sorrows
and anxieties, which were unavoidable even with a
Hercules. I confessed my deep sympathy for him and
his love ; but he was altogether too much a man not
soon to recover himself in a trial which, however pain
ful to his heart, would still neither derange nor
interrupt his career in life, which was rich with its plans
for the future. I am in the meantime not certain
whether little Elsa will adhere steadfastly to her
resolution of devoting her life to the happiness of her
twelve female friends. Twelve female friends might be
much more troublesome than a husband.
This is what I have said; but for the rest my summer-
daughter must be left free, and must decide according
to her own heart's light ! Her little paternal inherit
ance, and her extraordinary musical talent, will shield
her from real want. But her delicate health, and her
inability to take care of herself — oh, Hercules, Hercules,
I return after all to the wish that she may be able to
love thee, and that thou mayest surround her with thy
strong protecting arms ! In the meantime, I have
VOL. II. Y

322 PLEASANT DAILY LIFE.
carefully avoided mentioning his name during the quiet
week that we have been together here, and which my
summer-daughter has made affluent to me by her
captivating manners, her music, and by an affluence of
biographical and romantic incident, of which her mind
is full, and which pours out, during our quiet evenings,
as from a fresh, ever-flowing fountain. Then, half
reclining on the floor of the balcony, she relates scenes
from her childhood, or from the life of others, and all
the romantic legends of the magic ring, and figures of
all kinds from the witchcraft of the Brocksberg to the
lovely moonlight form of Lady Minnetrost, stand forth
afresh before my gaze, but now in the scene of reality.
No figure, however, amongst them all, seems so beautiful
as that of her father, who, whilst yet under the shadow
of approaching death, prepared and arranged everything
for his " little daughter." Since his decease she has
never enjoyed either health or happiness. The beauty
and the art of Italy have restored to her a waft of the
joy of life and — the Prince Villa Ombrosa. But this
Carnival-flame has not its place in the heart, but plays
in the imagination like a lovely meteor. He is a
beautiful Prince of Fairy-land, whom an earnest wind
will easily blow away.
We have seen some glorious sunsets on La Piccola
Sirena, where a bench invites the passer-by to rest in
the shadow of some mulberry trees. At no great dis
tance from this spot is a little chapel, where in the
evenings a nun, una monaca di Casa, reads aloud the
mass and the prayers to the assembled congregation.
The people of Sorrento seem to us good-humoured,
nice, cheerful people. Frequently, as we walk along the
streets of the town, we are saluted by the exclamation: —
" Ah, come questa signora e bella .' " or, " Ah, signorina^
come siete bella ! " And more than one good old woman

FESTIVAL OF MADONNA DEL CARMINE. 323
has stroked caressingly the child-like, delicate face of
my young friend ; has chucked her under the chin, or
has touched the soft brown locks with a half-sigh. Al
though the people seem poor,' rather than otherwise,
yet there are but few beggars. Ten or twelve old men
and women are continually in their places on the square,
like sparrows which are fed upon the fallen grain. Their
entreaties for qualche cosa are never pertinacious ; and
if you give them anything you are saluted by the ex
clamation, " Died mila anni ! " or, " Cento mila anni ! "
which perhaps implies a wish of liberation for so many
years from the fire of purgatory ; or else we are saluted
with a melodious " La madonna vaccompagna ! "
The Madonna is the divinity of Sorrento. Yester
day the great festival of La Madonna del Carmine was
held here. A fair, mountebanks, marionnettes, illumina
tion, air-balloons, fireworks, music, nothing was want
ing. The air-balloon ascended from the square, elevated
by the fire which was lighted within it, rose like a co
lossal pear of fire above the city, and vanished in space.
We were most amused by some sellers of ices and sher
bet, who, shouting and singing, offered their wares in
glasses one gran each. A great many people were as
sembled in the square, but amongst them all there
were merely two or three fellows who were a little un
steady on their legs, and stole silently aside, as if
ashamed of their own condition. Fathers and mothers
carried their little children on their shoulders, by hold
ing fast one arm of the child over their heads, which had
a very pretty and picturesque effect. This mode of
carrying the children seems to be common here.
We are delighted with being at Sorrento. I wonder
whether the Princess Elsa thinks about her friend in
Ischia ?
July 25th. — "If he should — if he would consent to come
t2

324 WALDO ARRIVES.
here for a little while, merely as a friend, as a brotherly
friend, and not touch upon that other subject, and not
say anything to me about his feelings — and if we in this
way could become better acquainted with each other,
and I could see whether I could love him — and if he
would promise to leave me perfectly free, and not con
sider me bound to him in any way by his coming here,
then  "
It was something in this half-dubious manner that the
Princess Elsa spoke a few days since. I afterwards was
commissioned to convey these words to Ischia, which
shortly brought a kind and noble-minded reply from
Hercules. He accepted the test. She should be free,
let the result be what it might for himself, and he fixed
a day for his arrival. Little Elsa appeared on that day
more grave than usual; but in the evening she was
again gay and talkative ; and as it grew late, and the ex
pected visitor did not make his appearance, she grew
somewhat saucy, and at eleven o'clock exclaimed: —
" Now I promise you, that I will accept him if he
come to-day ! "
With these words we went to bed, and at half-past
eleven he arrived.
" Well, now, Elsa ? " said I, somewhat significantly,
the next morning.
She smiled, but not cheerfully, and looked a little
perplexed. His firm and manly bearing, however, soon gave a
clearness and serenity to their mutual relationship. He
has engaged a room in the same hotel with ourselves ; we
take our meals and our walks together. In the evenings
he reads aloud something from Channing, the great and
good American Channing, to whose writings he is very
partial, or from some other excellent author ; sometimes
also an article from a newspaper. With Elsa he has

THE ROMANCE AGAIN INTERESTS ME. 325'
more the manner of a pere noble than of a lover ; and
it suits him as an older man, whilst it is in keeping with
her very youthful disposition, and gives a security and
freedom to their intercourse, which is a great pleasure
to me. We all three have points of union in our views
of life, as well life in general as that of the individual,
in that which constitutes the weal or woe of the nation
and the individual. The conversation between him and
myself sofnetimes embraces subjects of very grave cha
racter, and then Elsa is silent ; but when we break off
for her sake she says : —
" Nay, go on, go on. I like to listen to you, though
I do not understand much about these things ; but they
interest me."
And such avowals give him great pleasure.
We sympathize also in our taste for a quiet mode of
life ; and in this way, we three foreigners from various
lands, who some weeks ago were altogether unac
quainted with each other, now live together like bro
thers and sisters, and think it would be very nice if it
could always remain thus, without Waldo wishing to
change his relationship to one of us, into a relationship
still more intimate. But on that subject Elsa will not
now say a word. She was pleased to see him here and
near to her — she likes him as a friend, but she continues
cold to him as the lover, and — believes that she can never
become otherwise ; and — this state of affairs and its con
sequences begin to trouble me. His kindness and his
noble-minded affection have won all my sympathy, and
I am again too much interested in a romantic episode of
human life.
August 5th. — The sirens still sing on the coast of
the sirens, and it is difficult not to be captivated by the
song, more particularly as it does not involve dangers

326 THE GARDEN OF PRINCE TRI CASI.
such as those in the days of the Odyssey, when it
dragged the listeners into the abyss of death. Life
here has seemed to us so beautiful, so good and so inno
cent in its beauty, that one cannot avoid wishing that
it might always remain thus. Our enjoyment is now
also increased by a lovely garden quite close to our
hotel, where we often spend the evenings. Its proprietor,
the Prince of Tri Casi, is travelling, and his beautiful
villa stands unoccupied. From its marble steps we
watch the sunset over the sea, or magnificent lightning
flashes illume the horizon. The garden has various
walks, shaded by lovely trees and bordered with blos
soming oleanders and other flowering shrubs. Vines,
with their rich clusters, hang in garlands here and there
over the paths. Orange and lemon groves are, as
everywhere around, beautiful to the eye, but not to
walk in. The earth is dug up between the trees, in
order to prevent the rain-water from draining off, and
this necessarily renders it unfit for walking upon. These
groves are a kind of noble or cultivated wilderness.
The morning and forenoon we devote to reading and
writing, each one in their own room, but little Elsa has
besides a lesson in Italian from her great friend. To
wards noon bathing takes place, the enchanting, re
freshing sport with the waves on the soft sandy floor in
the bath pavilion ; after that, rest and far niente till
dinner. In the afternoon we take a drive, or a sail, or
a walk, as the case may be. The shores are affluent in
beauty, and incomparably lovely is the drive to the
heights of Castellamare. Our rambles on foot are
not unfrequently seasoned with good, open-hearted
and cheerful conversation amongst us three. Then
comes the evening with its tea, reading, and conversa
tion — or it may be a folks-festival. We seldom retire
before midnight.

"MIDSUMMER EVE." 327
Of folks-festivals, with processions, illuminations, and
fireworks, always the same, now in honour of one
saint, now of another, and frequently of the Madonna,
we have generally two every week. The brilliant parts
of the festival are often very brilliant and tasteful ; but
the horrible explosions of powder-men, which are set
up like a kind of mustard-pot, in rings and rows on the
square, and which tumble about everywhere after they
have exploded — the smoke which they occasion, and
the incessant jingling of bells, disturb our hearing, our
eyesight, and all our other senses. How far they may
gratify the saint seems to me doubtful. The people of
Sorrento look on for a moment, and then go home. One
can see that they are used to and tired of such spec
tacles. August 10th. — Have you read the charming romantic
story, " Midsummer Eve," a fairy tale, in which Mrs.
S. C. Hall has worked up in an ingenious manner the
-rich natural mythology of her native island? If so,
you have then seen a young girl, surrounded by good
and evil fairies, which appertain to her by right of
birth, and which have influence over her life. My
summer-daughter is such a fairy-child as this, and in a
still more perfect degree than the English heroine of
Dovecote, because she is really subject to the mystical
spirits of nature and their inexplicable influences, and
does not always overcome them, as is the case with
Mrs. Hall's beautiful ideal Eva. In the morning she is
the property of the black elves, pretty and sweet as
she looks all the time ; gloomy thoughts and presenti
ments then reign in her soul, and rest upon her brow,
and gaze from her serious dark eyes. She is then
silent and occupied by her own thoughts, and willingly
seeks the solitude of her own room. In the bath she
again becomes the Princess Elsa, or the cheerfully-

328 FAIRY-CHANGES.
thoughtful young woman, in whose soul dwells a wisdom
which awakes admiration in one so young, and which
sounds extraordinary from those childlike lips. These
moods of mind alternate through the day. In the twi
light she reclines for awhile upon her sofa, in order, as
she says, to give audience to her thoughts. But I sus
pect that the little imps then, protected by the twilight
shadows, play their tricks with her, because when she
gets up at seven o'clock for our tea she is again
changed. Then, and during the whole evening, she is
the Princess Elsa in all respects — in her captivating
vivacity, in her playful whims and sallies of humour,
which sometimes amount to impertinence. Then is her
musical vein awakened to new life, and she will play
now lively now plaintive pieces, always full of signifi
cance, sometimes also her own compositions, all of
which have a stamp of melancholy. She will modulate
or vary any one melody or theme, which takes her
fancy for the moment, in the sweetest manner, for a
long time. I have never heard music on the piano
which has so much melody as hers. During these eve
ning hours, too, she will sometimes amuse herself by start
ling Hercules with all kinds of airs which she gives her
self, as well as by enumerating all the silk dresses, splendid
shawls, carpets, services, cream-jugs, and sugar-basins
which she will have if she ever marries ; all of which is
secretly intended, I fear, to make him afraid of a wife
who will be so exacting and extravagant in her tastes.
Hercules, it is true, looks puzzled sometimes on these
occasions, and shakes his great head at the little witch —
but it does not matter ; he is not afraid of her, perhaps
because he silently suspects what I know to be the
case, that all these silk dresses, and all these other ex
pensive articles, are not at all a necessity to the soul of
this fairy-child ; that her taste is simple and noble, and

WONDERFUL POWER OF LOVE ! 329
that there is no danger from these faults which she is
so fond of exaggerating, since she can see them so
plainly herself.
Sometimes all the talking falls to his share; and then
he tells us of his friends, and his home in the beautiful
valleys — of his books and pictures there — and of the
good and earnest people; of a silk-factory which he
has established amongst them, and of that which he is
intending to do for his work-people, for the schools, and
by the establishment of a newspaper for the youthful
population of the valleys. I can see that he is wishful
to excite an interest in her mind toward these subjects.
She listens to them silently, but will not allow herself
to be interested by them. If she makes any observa
tion in reply to his glowing descriptions, it is usually a
remark that it must be "very cold," or "melancholy"
up in those mountains, or something of that kind, in
tended to convince him that she could never be happy
there. He smiles at her remarks, but it is evident that
they are painful to him. Wonderful power of love !
Here is a man endowed with all which can make life
cheerful, free, beautiful, worth living for — with health,
strength, fortune, independence. He has become
enamoured of a young girl, delicate, weak, hardly able
to take care of herself, indifferent to a great deal on
which he sets a high value, and especially indifferent as
to pleasing him — and he lays himself, his wealth, at her
feet, and would be supremely happy if she would
merely give him a friendly glance, and permit him to
devote his fife to her. In this relationship it is the
weak which is the strong, the one who desires nothing
who rules, the free which brings into bondage. The
old saga is renewed in all ages, and Hercules again
spins at the feet of Omphale. True it is that our
Hercules knows how to resume his strength and his

330 UNCERTAINTY.
dignity, and that, together with his goodness and hi3
earnest love, gives him a certain power over her. But
whenever I attempt to speak with her about her future,
he is altogether excluded, and kinder-gartens and the
twelve friends again come forth — but, above all, the free,
unanxious life in " this beautiful Italy." Sometimes
the black elves will, after such conversations, again get
possession of her soul. She becomes silent and sad.
To-day in the bath, when I was speaking in favour of
marriage, and she against it, she stood silent, glancing
thoughtfully down into the water, and in a few moments
began to sing softly, to a clear but solemn tune. I lis
tened. It was the " Mourning March" of Beethoven.
This touched me deeply, and made me seriously reflect.
Is this delicate young creature indeed fitted for mar
riage? Cannot people be happy without marriage?
Am not I myself so? And she with her enjoyment of
nature and art, her unassuming enjoyment of the inno
cent and the lovely in life ! If there were only not
those twelve female friends ! And if Hercules were
only not so good a man, so exactly the protecting
friend which she needs ! She has, however, in the
meantime promised me to think seriously about him ;
and if she should ever be conscious of a decided liking
for him, to announce the fact to me by dressing herself
in white. Since then I have said no more on the sub
ject. She must make her resolve in perfect freedom !
It is pleasant to me, nevertheless, to observe how
little of selfishness there is on either side in this rela
tionship — of that egotism which so often disfigures these
relationships between man and woman, and causes
them merely to take into consideration their own in
dividual happiness or satisfaction. Not so in this case.
" I would and could make her happy," he says, and
for that reason he wishes to make her his own.

CAPRI.— GROTTA AZURA. 331
"I could not make him happy, because I do not
love him sufficiently," she says ; and therefore she will
not accept his love. In both cases the grounds are
noble. August 13th. — An enchanting excursion to Capri —
the first calm sail I have yet had in the Bay of Naples !
The most glorious morning air, glittering waves bright
as diamonds, tumbling, water-spouting dolphins, and the
gay rowers, altogether rendered the sail quite festal.
We went direct to the Grotto Azura. Little fishing-
boats came immediately from the shore of Capri to
meet us there. The sea was now so tranquil that we
could, without any difficulty, enter the grotto in one of
the boats ; the water, however, was so high and the
entrance so low, that we were obliged to lie down in the
bottom of the boat. The incomparable spectacle of the
grotto filled with blue air and brightness, — a reflection
of the sea and of the sky shining in through its open
ing, together with its extraordinary property of giving
colour to the human body, which was proved to us by
an old swimmer, who, for a small payment, threw him
self into the water and swam about — we had a good
opportunity of observing during the hour which we
spent sitting on one of the rock-seats in the grotto.
After being thus pleasantly amused, and a little pro
voked by the rapacity of the fisher-folk, we rowed to
the landing-place, where we had a fight with some asses
and their drivers, who placed themselves in our road,
in order to compel us to accept their service. We
obtained rooms in the Hotel Pugani, and refreshed
ourselves to our hearts' content. Genuine Capri wine
and a real omelette soufflee were the crown of our ex
cellent little dinner. A palm-tree growing by our
little hotel, and the number of cactus plants on the
island, 'give it a tropical character. We went in the

332 ASCENSION-DAY.
afternoon to the ruins of the villa of Tiberius, which lie
on the southern side of the small island. A few walls,
fallen marble columns, and a beautiful mosaic floor are
all which now remain of its former splendour. The
view from the heights is of unrivalled beauty, embrac
ing the entire island, heaven, sea, and coast all around ;
and unrivalled, too, was the spectacle this evening of the
flaming clouds, in all their variations of purple, gold, and
crimson, as well as its after-glow on the sea following
upon the sunset. I have never beheld a more magnifi
cent play of brilliant colour. On our return we met a
young girl carrying a large vessel of water on her head,
but the girl's beauty and queen-like bearing were so
unusual that we involuntarily stopped to speak with
her. She replied with simplicity and kindness. Her
parents were poor people on the island ; her name was
Carmela, and she was seventeen.
In the evening the tarantella was danced by all the
people belonging to the Hotel Pugani. The joy of the
dance was expressed in every countenance, but espe
cially in the countenances of two young girls, whose
beautiful eyes beamed with delight. We were so
charmed with our visit to Capri, that we resolved to
return hither for a longer visit when we have bidden
farewell to Sorrento.
August 15th. — The Ascension-day of the Virgin is a
great festival in the Catholic Church. For the last
week they have been talking about it in Sorrento, and
of the great fireworks which are to take place on that
day, and for which the Prince of Syracuse, who has a
beautiful villa here, is said to have given a hundred
scudi. There was to be preaching in the principal church of
the city, and thither I went. The church was trans
formed into a regular boudoir, with silk draperies,

GLORIFICATION OF THE VIRGIN. 333
bouquets of flowers, and candles, whilst an image of
the Virgin, the size of life, decked out like a young
lady dressed for a ball, stood foremost in the choir.
The sermon, on the subject of the Virgin's ascension,
was in a flowery oriental style. " Her beauty was
especially exalted. Her eyes, cheeks, lips, forehead,
were each and all described and praised con amore—
also her jewelled crown, and snow-white mantle, blaz
ing with diamonds. Thus attired she ascended to
heaven. The sun left his seat to come and gaze at her,
and to make her a mantle of his rays; the stars
rushed forth, dancing around her to fashion a gloria
around her head ; the clouds hastened to her feet to
serve her as steps. Mary has overcome death — death
himself has fallen before her upon his knees adoringly.
Mary has seated herself on God's right hand, and
become our intercessor with Him. This constitutes
our advantage in her ascension. We could not force
our way to Him, the righteous judge — we are all
sinners. But Mary bears for us the compassionate
heart of a mother. God cannot deny her anything.
She allays the storms of the sea and the sufferings of
disease. All good comes alone to us through Mary.
Therefore, let us all, with one common voice, cry to her
to pray for us ! "
Such is the Mary-poem, in which the poet has con
trived to confound together the earthly mother with
the Divine Son.
We had in the evening the grandest and the most
brilliant of our Sorrento fireworks, with burning suns,
temples, cascades, &c, and with crackers and gunpow
der-old-men without number. The people were as
quiet as usual, even during a few disturbances caused
by His Royal Highness the Prince of Syracuse. He
was seated^ with the gentlemen of his court, before a

334 THE PRINCE OF SYRACUSE.
cafe on the principal street, and flung thence dozens of
cigars among the people : one box after another was
emptied in this manner. This soon assembled a crowd
of young and old men, who fought for the cigars, and
pressed ever nearer upon the prince, who himself
snatched the caps of several from their heads, and
threw them away amongst the crowd, in order to free
himself from them ; till at length the gentlemen of his
court were obliged to use their canes actively for the
same purpose. This scene was renewed several times.
A stand with all kinds of confectionary and cakes stood
at no great distance, on the opposite side of the street,
and this the crowd obtained leave to plunder by a sign
from the prince ; so madly, however, did they rush upon
their prey that again the canes of the gentlemen were
put in motion before order could be re-established.
But it seemed to amuse the prince. This prince, a
large, powerful man, with a very handsome counte
nance, is particularly popular in Sorrento for his kind
ness and liberality. Both he and his brothers, the
Dukes of Aquila and Trapani — they are all brothers of
the King of Naples — are said to be real Turks with
regard to women, and the sympathies of the popular
prince for the people have in them nothing either
elevating or ennobling to the same.
The folks-festivals are said to have lost here, as in all
parts of Italy, much of their former life and splendour.
But this seems to me rather a good than a bad sign ;
because what, indeed, are these festivals other than noise,
explosions of light, and — ashes ? Nevertheless they are
expensive, and — what do they leave behind them? —
vacuity ! The people begin perhaps to feel that they
neither can nor ought to be satisfied with fireworks
alone. How unlike these, too, are the Swiss national
•festivals! The people themselves take part in them,

THE PEOPLE OF TORRENTO. 335
both soul and body. Strength, health, industry, art,
understanding, and brotherhood alike require it.
There is no other species of festival which will operate
to the national advantage. Poor Italy ! How un
profitable in result, on the contrary, are thy festivals !
The people here appear to us to be industrious, but
in general to be poor. The women spin on their
distaffs before their houses, whilst the men with bowed
necks and backs carry heavy burdens of food, and other
things, from the shore up to the town, Sorrento lying
high. They very seldom eat flesh meat, " not once a
month," as I have been assured by them. Their prin
cipal food consists of a species of beans, together with
bread and fruit ; of the last there is now great abun
dance here, and people can get melons, figs, oranges,
&c, at a very small cost. Later on in the year come
also grapes, and fichi a" India, the fruit of the cactus
plant. Even maccaroni is here an article of luxury to
the people, as is also wine, — and yet this is a vine-
growing country ; and whilst the people are subjected
to deprivation, as regards the means of life, hundreds
of scudi are expended in smoke for their pleasure.
They will cheat in trifles, and they are quite too greedy
of carlini and grani ; but I ask myself whether this is
not natural in a state of things where people are con
tinually struggling for daily bread for themselves and
their children, and where they know no other object in
life. We have always found them kind and good-
natured, and faithful in keeping any engagement which
is orally made with them. The fishermen on these
shores are in this respect as trustworthy as the drivers
in Rome ; and when one employs any amongst them
constantly, and treats them kindly, they become actually
one's friends.
We celebrated in the house, two • days ago, the

336 A BETROTHAL FEAST.
betrothal of our host, Luigi, with a handsome young
girl of particularly good and respectable appearance.
It took place in the presence of il curato, a nice
humorous clergyman, who asked the young people if
they would have one another, after which the written
contract was drawn up between them. Ices, wine,
confectionary, and other things were then handed
round by Rafael, the young brother of the host, a hand
some youth, and our daily attendant.
I cannot sufficiently express how satisfied we are
with the way of life and the arrangements of this
house, or how well pleased we are in every respect with
our host and hostess. We feel ourselves here to be, as
it were, amongst friends and connections. We never
lock our room-doors, even when we are absent for a day
and night ; we leave our small properties lying about, nor
have ever had reason to suppose that they have even
been touched. We can believe everything which has
been said of the reliance which may be placed on the
Italian when he is treated with confidence. It is
impossible to live anywhere cheaper or better than at
the Hotel de la Campagne.
I must add to the pleasure also which I have here
experienced, the acquaintance of Count C. Wachtmeis-
ter, Swedish minister in Naples, a man of rare know
ledge, liberal political views, and very interesting in
society ; as well as two evenings spent with Philemon
and Baucis, who inhabit a lovely little villa near the
shore. Baucis entertained us like a queen, and the
learned Rabbi presented us, as dessert, with a superb
spiritual feast, in his incomparable reading of the Psalms
of David, together with some of the songs of Anacreon
or Sappho. Little Psyche seems to enjoy her own
ambrosial food in them, so bright are her eyes the
while.

PROSE AND POETRY. 337
August 27ih. — Time flies, and our life in Sorrento
must soon come to an end. An end must also be put
to a state of affairs which only more and more jeo
pardises the peace of a noble man, without leading to
any good result. For whilst Waldo's feelings for " that
child " increase in depth every day, and often make him
very unhappy, though he conceals it from her, that his
suffering may not influence her mind through her com
passion for him — she still remains indifferent towards
him, and is frequently not considerate in her behaviour.
A person who knew her less thoroughly than I do
might accuse her of coquetry. But since I have known
her, I have more than ever taken the part of young
girls who are suspected of this evil habit. The fickle
ness of her manner towards him arises from the fickleness
or ever-changing character of her mind or disposition,
arises from physical or nervous weakness, arises from
the influence of the good and evil fairies in her soul.
Her good heart has also some share in the inequality
of her conduct, because when she sees that she has
grieved him, or been the occasion of his suffering, she
endeavours to atone for it, and — it is just as certain
that this better state of mind will not long continue ;
because the magic power which governs her so wills it,
that let her be in what sort of temper she may — dark
or light — she is agreeable and fascinating to him, and
he is by that means attracted to her. She cannot be
otherwise, even if she would. I have several times
warned and lectured her in a motherly way, and have
been quite overcome by her amiability, candour, and —
humility. She is as amiable as she is unusually gifted,
and I have ended with thinking that she may be more in
the right than I am, when she asserts that she is not
suitable for Hercules, nor is Hercules suitable for her.
He is prose, pure and noble prose, but prose, neverthe-
VOL. II. Z

338 A SEPARATION IN PROSPECT.
less ; she is poetry, noble also and pure, but with ever-
varying transitions to wild fancy, which render her
unjust towards the peculiar beauty of the proses Love
alone, and a new birth through love, could lead her,
like the Princess Elsa in Elsa-dale, to become the ser
vant of the practical. aims which the well-being of man
kind requires. In order to be interested in the silk-
spinning in the Waldenses valleys, to take part in popular
schools, &c, she must love the Waldensian, and — that
she cannot do, I see plainly, and with that we must be
content. She has honestly endeavoured to do so, but
it did not succeed ; and it is no fault of hers. She
esteems him cordially, likes him as a brotherly friend,
and " would select him as a husband for either three
or five of her twelve female friends, who would suit
him excellently, as he them."
These are always the last words when we talk
together on the subject, and it must now be plainly
spoken out. In the beginning of September I shall
leave Sorrento, to continue my journey to various
places around Naples, and afterwards go to Sicily,
where I intend to spend the winter, in case I do not
make a still longer journey. My summer-daughter
will accompany me to Sicily, if she wishes to do so,
but Hercules must not remain any longer with us. It
would be unpardonable to risk further the peace of a
noble mind. Psyche herself takes the same view, and
is resolved very shortly to give him her definite answer,
yet in such a manner as not to wound him.
"He will soon console himself," she declares; "he
is a Hercules, and a rich life lies before him. He will
make his journey to the East and soon forget me !"
I doubt as to the ease with which he will forget
her ; I have become acquainted with a deep sensibility
in his heart, a necessity of loving which has not yet

UNEXPECTED CHANGE IN AFFAIRS. 339
been satisfied, and which embraces " that child" with
the whole strength of his being. I know and feel it ;
he will not easily console himself — he will never forget ;
but he is a man — he will do his part and travel to the
East. It cannot be otherwise, and perhaps it is best
that it should be so. Oh ! oh ! How often is the
egotist beloved, when the noble-hearted is rejected !
August 30th. — But not this time ! Everything is
changed, and she is his betrothed ! When they entered
my room hand in hand, to announce to me that they
were engaged to each other, his countenance beamed
with happiness, like a demi-god ; she was pale, but
her eyes were bright as two clear stars. They were a
lovely couple ; he strength, she grace. I received with
amazement, and not without uneasiness, the wholly un
expected communication ; and though I clasped them
both in my arms with heartfelt congratulations, I still
felt a secret fear that a surprise of the yielding
womanly heart had occasioned this sudden change in
the resolve which she had lately taken, though long
matured. I wished to be alone with her, and after he
bad assured us both that she was still free, that she
never should be bound without her own "full, free
consent," he left us alone.
I gazed with uneasy inquiry into those deep eyes
where I saw clouds and tears casting a shadow over the
lately beaming glance ; but she tranquillized my fears
of her own accord. She had seen him, she said, so
good, so noble, so beautiful in his love, that she felt
herself conquered, and had given herself to him with
clear consciousness and full reflection. She felt that
she had acted rightly ; " she was resolved to make him
happy, and she hoped and believed that she could
henceforth be happy with him !"
May she be so, the pure-hearted lovely young girl !
z2

340 STORMS WITHOUT AND WITHIN.
Hitherto I have felt more interest in him than in
her; because his honest and unselfish love has won my
whole sympathy. But from this moment I feel that
my heart will be principally drawn towards her.
September 5th. — Our bathing has come to a terrible
end, by a sirocco-storm, which, during one night, car
ried away all the bathing-houses on the shore, and ours
amongst the rest. Yesterday the sea rose high along
the strand, and it was magnificent to see the waves
with white foamy manes, like some kind of sea-horses,
rear up against the cliffs. The weather, during the
last eight days, has been so autumnal and chilly, that I
do not know when I have felt it so unpleasant in
Sweden at this time of the year ; and, in the main, I
find that the summer of Sweden as much exceeds that
of Italy in beauty and pleasantness, as the winter and
spring of Italy exceed those seasons in Sweden. In a
few days I leave Sorrento, and proceed to Capri,
Amalfi, and Salerno, and then again to Naples. The
betrothed will accompany me.
We have also, within doors, experienced some
storms, arising from Psyche's not yet fully-subdued
heart. But Hercules has on every occasion overcome
them by the power both of earthly and heavenly love;
and after every fresh obscuration by the black elves, I see
anew the bright star-glance beam forth from the
receding clouds. Great is her power over him, but I
observe, with pleasure, that his power over«her is on
the increase. After each little storm the heaven be
comes all the brighter.
Our evenings are always harmonious. Psyche's
music gives a great enjoyment to them, because it is
like a living, gushing fountain from the depths of her
soul. Sometimes, also, Hercules joins her in singing
" Santa Lucia," which he sings well. He has a strong,

OUR EVENING READING. 341
pure, and melodious voice, although not musically
trained. Afterwards we take our stand on one of the
balconies of the drawing-room, and inhale the cool
evening air, whilst the stars shine above us. The wind
is always still in the evenings, the sky is clear, and we
watch the moon rise behind the hill of San Angelo, or
splendid lightning flashing from fantastic clouds illu
mine space. We listen to the singing of the people
on the square, whilst they rest in careless enjoyment of
the repose of evening and the fruits of the earth. By
degrees they sink into silence, and all becomes still,
except the splash of the little fountain near the old
city-gate in the square, and upon the ruins of which
stands San Antonio, as the patron-saint of Sorrento.
Thus fly the minutes and the hours, and Hercules sur
rounds his Psyche with his embrace and his heart-felt
love, whilst she, leaning against the balustrade, gives
herself up to the lovely inspirations of her evening
mood, and earnest talk and joke pass between the
two. Thus it should be. Sometimes, also, we read
aloud; in the last instance some of the songs of the
Odyssey, which ought to be read in these scenes, so
full of the achievements or adventures of Ulysses.
We delight ourselves with the many fresh expressions
and delineations of nature, but we also rejoice to live
long after the time when the "godlike Odysseus" and
his friends found the supreme enjoyment of life to con
sist in sitting from the rising of the sun to the setting
of the same at a well-spread board, eating flesh and
drinking wine, and listening to love stories, " which
made the goddesses turn away their eyes, and the gods
to hold their sides for laughter." We rejoice to be
living long after the time when " the good Telemachus"
sent his mother to her room to attend to her womanly
occupations ; and when the lot of the dead seemed to

342 OUR LATEST ADVENTURES.
be so gloomy that Achilles, in Hades, confessed that
he would rather live as the poorest day-labourer on
earth than as the ruler of the dead in the realm of
shades. We have contemplated, from the heights of Conti,
on the other side of the ridge or point of Sorrento, the
celebrated islands of the sirens. They do not now
appear to be dangerous from their seductive influence ;
they are small, naked, rocky islands in the Bay of
Salerno, on which one perceives some ruins of former
buildings, but no trees, scarcely any bushes. An
Amazonian queen is said to have lived up6n the
largest of these islands, and may have given occasion
to the legends of their dangerous character. The view
pver the coast of Salerno and the bay are glorious from
this height. After we have seen, on the coast of Sa
lerno, the caves of Ulysses and the romantic bath of
Queen Joanna, as well as Tasso's house — but which
is, perhaps, not Tasso's house at all, as that is said to
have been washed away by the sea many years ago —
we shall be ready to leave Sorrento to proceed to
Capri and elsewhere. Our summer-Odyssey is not
yet ended.
Review of our latest travelling adventures : —
Naples, September 20th. — A stormy passage from
Sorrento to Capri. Can Hercules have offended Nep
tune ? Certain it is that after the sea-god had decoyed
us out in the morning, by his apparent calmness and
good-humour, he blew up against us such an angry con
trary wind, that it seemed as if we should never arrive.
Five strong rowers propelled us through the boiling
waters, and our little boat was carried aloft on moun
tain waves, and down into deep troughs of the sea ; be
fore us the heaven was clouded, and the sailors began to
exchange their merry cries about "maccaroni," into

IN CAPRI. 343
half-spoken prayers to the Virgin. Little Elsa lay very
pale and suffering in the boat ; I suffered also from a
sort of moral sea-sickness, caused by anxiety for her.
Hercules alone was calm and alert. The bad weather
became a decided tempest, with lightning and rain, just
when we were sufficiently near Capri to lie under the
rock in a little cave, until the storm somewhat abated.
High above our heads might be seen in the wall of rock
an artificial gateway for the admission of carriages and
goods, datingfrom the time of Tiberius — Timberius, as our
sailors said. In half-an-hour we were able to continue
our course, and an hour afterwards we were once more
in our good hotel Pugani, where it wa3 again a plea
sure to inhale the fresh, cool air of the island, genuine
Capri air, which seemed to us better than that either of
Ischia or Sorrento. The island was unusually lively on
this day, from the celebration there of the Virgin Mary's
birthday, and cheerful voices were heard, and groups
of festally-attired people might be seen wandering along
on all hands.
Five days' stay in Capri gave us two glorious even
ings, with the grand spectacle of the sunset, flaming
clouds, and horizon, around the richly-coloured sea ; be
sides one morning of indescribable beauty, with a splen
dour of sunshine over heaven and earth, whilst we as
cended five hundred and thirty-five steps up the cliffs to
the lofty plateau of Ana-Capri, where, to our surprise, we
found ah upland, with olive- groves, vineyards, maize fields,
and many neat well-built dwellings, with every appear
ance of prosperity around them. Capri is assuredly
the pearl of the neighbourhood of Naples, on account of
its air and its peculiarity. After having anciently been
covered by palaces and villas, the island is now aban
doned by the great and the affluent, who only come thi
ther to visit the Grotto Azura.

344 AMALFI.
Mr. S  astonished us one evening by coming in,
dressed as a woman, carrying the boiling kettle for our
tea, and thereby half frightening to death some of the
ladies in the house, which did not, however, prevent the
tarantella from being danced with especial animation
in the evening.
On the 13th we all four set off in an open boat to
Amalfi. Again the wind was contrary, although not
violently. Eight hours' rowing on the sea, with rough
waves, and under a burning sun, did not render the
voyage very agreeable. Psyche lay sick in the _ boat,
and even Hercules suffered from headache. We rowed
along the shores, which, through the whole extent, were
composed of lofty rocks, dangerous, naked, and rugged.
It made one thirsty only to look at them, and at the
villages and towns which shone out white, here and
there in the hollows, or upon the bare rock, with a few
meagre olive trees for shadow. As we approached
Amalfi the green cultivated plots increased in impor
tance, orange groves were intermingled with olive woods,
the character of the rocks changed, they assumed more
beautiful proportions and architectural forms, especially
so at Amalfi. There we were obliged to be carried on
shore by our sailors. We found good quarters at the
hotel Luna, formerly a convent, on the outside the town,
near the shore. The people in the house struck us as
being so peculiar, that we suspected them of being a
kind of men of the moon. In the morning they enter
tained us with Neapolitan songs, excellently sung, and
a tarantella, excellently danced, the whole being given
on the beautiful ancient court of the convent, surrounded
by a marble balustrade finely sculptured. The people
are musical, gay, childlike, but altogether too keen after
carlini and grani. We are here evidently not in the
moon.

THE STATUE OF ST. ANDREW. 345
Amalfi, with its white churches and houses, lies upon
lofty rock-terraces on the shore of the Bay of Salerno.
One clambers up amidst valleys of luxuriant vegetation.
The former powerful city, with its population of fifty
thousand souls, and which alone ruled the trade with
the East, is now an unimportant town of three thou
sand inhabitants, a few manufactories of maccaroni and
paper, together with a great number of beggars. These
swarmed like flies, both outside and inside of the cathe
dral, the sole but splendid remains of the ancient gran
deur of Amalfi. There is in the beautiful crypt chapel a
statue of St. Andrew, the Apostle, who is said to be
buried here — which one can never forget. He is re
presented as standing, or rather walking, proclaiming
the Gospel, his hand pointing to the Holy Scriptures.
He is aged, and his countenance bears the traces
of weariness and suffering — but, at the same time,
of an unimpaired will, and unabated courage and love.
He is advancing onward through the dark crypt of the
world and of life, preaching the gospel of freedom and
of peace, because this it is for which he is sent. He
sees but little light, yet that does not trouble him— he
will fulfil his master's commands, and then go to him.
This he desires to do, this he knows, and it is sufficient
for him. He does not see the small lamp which burns
beneath his feet, the little light which shines in dark
ness, and which will overcome it. His glance is stead
fastly fixed alone upon the goal. It may be dark around
him on earth, he looks and he aims merely at that !
" Go thou and do likewise ! " the glorious figure seems
to say to the beholder. In the crypt of life, in the dark
ness of the world, under all those experiences which
gloom the soul and the mind, never become weary of
following the footsteps of the saint, never forsake the
testifying of his doctrine and of his life ! The light

346 SALERNO.
which has illumined thy wandering will shine still
clearer over thy grave !
The environs of Amalfi abound in picturesque walks
amongst the rocks, whilst the mountains of Calabria, ex
tending like dark violet billows, attract the glance into
the distance, with the promise of scenes of a new cha
racter and grandeur. After two days devoted to
Amalfi, we proceeded in an open boat to Salerno. Showers
of rain unexpectedly overtook us on our way; but we
had also beautiful sunshine on the sea and the moun
tains, especially on the Calabrian side. Two lads in
the boat sang the whole way, both very well and with
animation, several Neapolitan songs, as La Carolina,
Ti voglio ben assai, ma non ti uno piu, Santa Lucia, and
others. The people of Amalfi are celebrated for their
songs and musical taste.
Leaving Amalfi, the rocks become lower, and at Sa
lerno they have retired to the background, as if to allow
the ancient celebrated city, the seat of the sciences and
schools of learning, and still the house of minds athirst
for freedom, to spread itself out by the sea-shore,
amongst green hills and meadows. On the rocks in the
background stands the strong fortress, with a dark and
threatening aspect. A number of political prisoners are
confined there — for how long ?
We were well entertained at the Victoria Hotel, on
the Marina of Salerno, and enjoyed a fine view of its
splendid bay and shores. The moon rose over the
sea, whilst magnificent lightnings flashed from a sink
ing cloud. It was a wondrously beautiful evening.
Never before had the betrothed seemed so har
moniously happy as during this evening; whilst Waldo
allowed himself to be more than usually carried away
by his favourite thoughts and plans for the future,
especially for the well-being of that handful of people

P^STUM. 347
who had so faithfully preserved from the most ancient
times " the light which shines in darkness," and which
must have so much influence on the future of Italy ;
never before had she thus listened to him, with those
bright, star-clear glances, that cheerful consent, that
admiring devotion. Never before had she seemed so
completely his own.
" I am happy ; I feel proud that I shall be the wife
of such a man !" she said to me in the evening. The
earth is yet the home of pure beauty and happiness.
On the 16th we took a carriage and drove to
Psestum, where we wished to see the re-discovered
ancient temples, the oldest and noblest architectural
work of art in Italy. The day was glorious and the
road good, leading through flowery meadows, here and
there traversed by footpaths, so like the landscape with
us in Sweden, with little brooks, bushes, groups of
trees, even the little villages resembled ours ; but the
ground did not appear to be well cultivated. We met
great numbers of cattle, which were being driven to
the city, where they were making ready for the festival
of some saint, with its accompanying great fair.
After a charming drive of four hours we reached
Paestum. Here stood formerly, it is said, the city of
roses, the city of the Sybarite — the home of the most
refined life-enjoyment. Here now' its sole remains are
the three great temples standing in a desolate field,
which produces only thistles, nettles, and entangling
weeds. These temples were beautiful, and the im
pression they produced grand and solemn, especially
those of Neptune and Ceres, with their magnificent
colonnades, beneath the open, beaming heavens, and
looking out upon the vast, sun-bright sea. They
bore witness in their beauty of a time of life when
manhood, still more than now, did everything with

348 pompeii.
reference to the present moment or temporal life,
and endeavoured, and was able, under this heaven, to
forget that it was mortal. Therefore also these
temples are standing as solemn memento mori. A
death-like silence reigned around them. The only
living being whom we saw was a little pale, sickly
herd-boy, with a starvling dog, watching a few goats.
The whole district is very unhealthy, but the soil is
said to be rich, and they have just begun to cultivate
it. The labourers remove, during the summer, to a
village which we saw shining white up amongst the
hills. We took our dinner in the shade of the columns
and friezes of the temple of Neptune, and by evening
we were again in Salerno. Five or six carriages were
driving backwards and forwards on its Corso along the
shore, with the beau monde of the city.
They are now planting and beautifying this prome
nade. There is an increasing vitality in Salerno, and,
during the latter years, it has distinguished itself by
such movements in the cause of liberty as have drawn
down upon the city the paternal regards of the govern
ment, and peopled its prisons. Many priests are said
to be confined in them.
The betrothed promenade and enjoy the moonlight
and themselves whilst they talk about marriage, which
is not to be in their case a twofold egotism — un ego'isme
a deux — but something quite different. Very good!
Hercules, thou art the good pine-tree in the legend of
the Princess Elsa !
The 17th. — Visit to Pompeii. That which appeared
more striking to me in this monument, alone of its
kind — this city, which lay buried for centuries under
the ashes of Vesuvius, and which but lately, as it were,
was produced thence to bear witness of the every-day
life of former times — was the smallness of all its pro-

INTERIOR OF THE DWELLINGS. 349
portions. Everything — from the forum of the city,
temples, and private dwellings — is ornamental, deco
rative, but small. One seems to be looking at the
prettiest miniature city, of a sort of miniature humanity.
The public buildings have an affluence of columns.
The private houses have all the same construction.
The dwelling-rooms, larger or smaller, are all arranged,
like cells, around a court, with a little flower-garden,
in the centre of which is a marble fountain. Between
the rose-court and the inner cells, Gynaeceum, or
ladies-room, is the conversation-room, a kind of general
saloon or square open to the court. All these rooms
(belonging to the ladies) receive light only from
the side next the Court. I could not have breathed,
nor have been at all comfortable in them, although
decorative paintings and arabesques might cover their
walls, and however much the court might have been
adorned with lovely little fountains, with shells, cupids,
and other little statues; and however beautiful the
roses might have been which bloomed there, this
world, it seems to me, would have been too much cir
cumscribed. I was agreeably surprised by the beauty
of the fresco-paintings, which still are preserved in
many of the rooms. Those eyes, they still have ex
pression and life as if they still lived, and in these coun
tenances what expression ! Anything deeper or more
true to life is seldom met with even in the paintings of
the present day. So in this picture of Ulysses and
Cleopatra, and in this other of ^Eneas and his mother !
And in the animals, and in these mythological figures,
satyrs and fauns, what life, what humour! What
affluence in these saloons and dining-rooms, of the
sweetest forms, from the world of flowers, birds, and
fantasy! Everywhere the endeavour to adorn and
beautify daily life is exhibited. Many inscriptions,

350 HUMAN REMAINS THERE.
however, prove that life here was not of the moral
character ; and many ruins of thevtemples prove also
the deceptions practised there by the priests in the
name of the gods — as, for instance, in the temple of
Isis. We were shown the places where skeletons had
been found : a priest at his repast ; the wife of Dio-
medes, with her female servants, himself in his garden
with a purse in his hand. There were not many ; the
deluge of ashes which fell slowly over the city gave its
inhabitants the opportunity for flight. Some, however,
appear to have been suffocated by the hot vapours of
the eruption, as was the case with Pliny the elder.*
Many human bodies may still be found in the consi
derable portion of the city which has not yet been
excavated. The visit to Pompeii interested me so much, that I
resolved to pay a second visit some day, when I was
less weary, and had more time than at present. We
were now hurried in our return to Naples, and the
cause of our being so I will relate in the next station.
* The narrative of this occurrence is well known, but so inte
resting that I shall append it in a note at the close of this work. —
Author's note.

351

FIFTEENTH STATION.
The Miracle of San Gennaro — The Royal Family of Naples —
Museo-Borbonica — The Minister of the Interior, Bianchini —
The Inner Life of Naples ; the Innermost — Benevolent Institu
tions — The Handsome Nuns — System of Government in
Naples— Excursion to Caserta and Portici — Villa Reale and
the Comet — The Folks-Theatre at Naples — New Acquaintance
— New Troubles — The Prince of Villa Ombrosa and the
Princess Elsa — A Day in Pompeii — Magnanimity and De
spair — Rapid Journey to Sicily and  . The End.
Naples, September 23rd. — On the 19th of September,
I know not how many centuries ago, a certain Bishop
Gennaro or Januarius, was beheaded in Naples for his
Christian faith. His Christian friends or relatives
collected his blood in a bottle. This bottle was kept.
It remains to the present day — so, at least, it is said
— in the Church of San Gennaro, which was built at
the close of the thirteenth century, in memory of the
martyr. This blood is said to change from a rigid
mass into a fluid state, in answer to the prayers of the
populace and the priests, twice or thrice in the course
of the year, if the saint be favourably disposed to
Naples and its people. If the change be tardy in its

352 SAN GENNARO AND HIS RELATIONS.
operation, then the saint is not in good-humour ; but
should the blood really continue unchanged altogether,
some great misfortune would be expected. On the
19th of September, and during the whole following
week, the change may be expected, and it was to be
the witnesses of this so-called miracle that we has
tened to Naples on the 18 th of September.
After having observed the working of the miracle
three times, I will give you an account of the occa
sion when we saw it most favourably. Already at
eight o'clock we went to the church. The miracle
never takes place before nine o'clock, but how soon or
how long after the stroke of that hour depends upon
the favour or disfavour of San Gennaro towards his
Neapolitan countrymen and countrywomen ; because
his cousins or descendants in the female line, to the
hundredth or thousandth degree, have no inconside
rable part to play therein. The chapel in the cathe
dral was already, on our arrival, full of people ; but a
kind priest, who recognized us as foreigners, conducted
us within the balustrades round the altar, to which we
were able to place ourselves as near as we wished.
Several foreigners, in the meantime, had similar places
assigned to them. Many Neapolitan ladies, and some
gentlemen, were kneeling on the flight of steps which
led to the quire. The crowd of the populace stood
outside, in the spacious rotunda-like chapel, whilst an
especial place by the altar was assigned to a throng of
old, simply-attired women, considerably more like
witches than Madonnas. These called themselves the
relations of San Gennaro, and were not allowed to eat
anything in the morning before the miracle was in
operation, from which cause their prayers became all
the more energetic and effectual.
A number of silver statues filled the chapel, which is

WORKING THE MIRACLE. 353
said to be immensely rich. The heat was very great,
as we waited there in silence the arrival of San
Gennaro. More and more candles were lighted on the
altar, and at length a number of priests made their
appearance, bearing his bust of silver gilt, which was
placed upon the altar, and his blood, preserved in an
oval greenish glass bottle, enclosed by a massive
silver ring fastened to a shaft, which a priest held in
his hand, and by which he swung, in the view of all,
the bottle backwards and forwards, in order to let
them see that the black-red mass, which more than
half-filled it, was hard-set and immoveable. A small
mysterious tube passes through the bottle, and is held
above and below by the thick silver rim, at least one
cannot see anything, and one involuntarily asks oneself
why not ? But one must not be too inquisitive.
The prayers now begin. The priests mutter softly ;
those who kneel round the altar do the same ; the
whole chapel mshes into a low chorus of prayer ; but
the old women, the relations of San Gennaro, lift up
shrill, shrieking voices as they repeat, one after another,
" Paternoster " and " Credo," as well as improvised
prayers, to their holy great uncle or cousin, that he
would show them his favour, and not let them wait too
long. This screaming and noise rises and sinks, and
rises again like a storm, but still through it all, the
priest continues to swing the bottle up and down,
and from one side to the other, showing it, between
whiles, to the spectators, who see that the dark mass
remains still immoveable. He shows it also to the
gentleman of noble appearance, dressed in black, who
stands on his right, in front of the altar, as the repre
sentative of the King ; he shows it also to a similar
gentleman on the left. Both assume a very grave and,
as it were, significant demeanour. Again prayers are
VOL. II. AA

354 THE MIRACLE COMPLETE.
renewed with increased vigour, and the relations of
San Gennaro lift up still shriller voices and still wilder
cries ; their glances flash fire, and some of them are
quite desperate that their holy uncle allows them to
remain hungry so long. By degrees the prayers-
become so violent, that they resemble abuse and oppro
brium. It is said that the old women are not sparing
in this respect if the miracle be too long delayed. I
was not able to distinguish such expressions this
morning. The Neapolitan popular dialect, as spoken
by the screaming voices of the Neapolitan women,
always sounds like abuse. These vehement outbursts
become more and more volcanic, and actually threaten
ing, when all at once every countenance brightens and
a pause ensues. A movement i3 observable in the
mass of blood. It begins to slide, first to one side,
then to the other ; it seems to become loosened from
the glass. The priest continues to swing the bottle,
the rim of which it seems to me that he clasps with a
secret manipulation ! The old women scream, and the
priests mutter. Yet another five minutes, and the
miracle is complete. The blood is wholly liquefied,
and flows on all sides. The old women exult, many
of the ladies weep, and all the pious press forward to
kiss the glass bottle which contains the blood of the
martyr, and which is now extended to their lips and
their foreheads by the priests.
We hasten out of the throng at the altar lower down
into the chapel, where we see the relations of San
Gennaro place themselves in two rows between the
quire and the door. Here they pour forth a shrill song
of praise in honour of Jesus and the Virgin, San
Gennaro, and all the saints, who receive a vivat ! The
singing is beautiful, fresh, and with a kind of wild
energy in it, like the figures from whom it proceeds,

KISSING THE BOTTLE. 355
and who might serve as types of the Neapolitan popu
lar characters in the lower regions. If a thoughtless
boy or girl approaches too near any one of these rela
tions of San Gennaro, amidst their holy zeal, they
receive a lusty slap or blow from the old women.
When this concluding song is over, they make a
movement with hand and head to the bust of San
Gennaro, a short salutation, which seems to say,
"Thanks, and farewell, cousin, till next time!" and
then, without further ado, go off to their breakfasts.
Amongst the spectators one sees some who weep,
some who smile ; and although they who press forward
to kiss the bottle are not numerous in comparison with
the throng, yet they form themselves into a close row
on each side of the procession, which advances from the
chapel of San Gennaro, with his bust and blood, to the
high altar in the quire of the church, where again the
bottle is exhibited to the observation of the kissing and
kneeling multitude. And this is continued the whole
day, the officiating priests relieving each other every
hour. We placed ourselves on one occasion amongst the
kneeling people, because we wished to have as near
a view of the bottle as possible. The holy father
who was then carrying it, supposing us to be of the
faithful, offered it to my young friend for her to kiss,
when she, astonished, drew herself hastily back. He
looked at her with a glance that expressed surprise and
reproach, but with so much gentleness that she blushed
and looked like a criminal. The holy father's whole
appearance was so good and so pious, that it was evi
dent he believed in the miracle — he was not the one
in whose hand it took place — and it grieved him that a
young girl who looked so unusually pious was yet,
nevertheless, a heretic. AA 2

356 LIFE IN THE CHURCH,
People said that the miracle had this year occurred
with unusual ease. They have seldom to wait now
longer than twenty minutes, or at most half an hour,
after the praying begins ; and the public rejoice in this
as a sign of the favour of San Gennaro, and we are
convinced that we have witnessed a piece of legerde
main much less remarkable than that which causes wine
of various kinds to flow out of one bottle. A tolerably
speaking fact is that a chemist is annually sent from the
court eight days before that on which the miracle is to
take place, in order, as it is said, " to ascertain the cor
rectness of the blood." Another striking fact is that
when the French soldiers some years ago were stationed
at this time in Naples, and the miracle was so tardy
in its operation that the populace were thrown into
a state of fermentation against the French, believing
them to be the cause of the delay, the French
commander sent word to the priests of San Gennaro
that if the miracle did not take place five minutes after
this message was delivered he would bombard the
church ; whereupon the relations of San Gennaro, who
on this were almost out of their minds, found that
not more than three minutes were required before they
could raise the cry of exultation.
During the three mornings that we spent in the
church, it was interesting to me, though not edifying,
to watch the ecclesiastical life which went on there ;
the crowd going and coming, talking, staring, as at a
show, whilst in the long side-aisles priests were sitting
in the confessionals, and listening to confession, whilst
their eyes wandered curiously amongst the passers-by.
The life of the church resembled that of the square,
and there appeared no sign of minds earnestly employed
in devotion.
The day after the first miracle-day — that is to say,

THE MUSEO BORBONICO. 357
the 20th of September — the king and queen drove with
the whole royal family in great state to the cathedral,
to thank San Gennaro in due form for his favour. The
carriages were magnificent, mounted with silver, and
really very beautiful. The members of the royal
family are unusually plain in person — all with large,
pale countenances, without any marked feature. The
king, notwithstanding his stoutness, is the best-looking
of his race, except the Prince of Syracuse, who is now
not here. The crown-prince has a long, gloomy coun
tenance, particularly unpleasing. It is said that he has
been hitherto a great bigot, but it is hoped that a fa
vourable change may be produced by his marriage next
winter, with a young Austrian princess, who is both
handsome and gay. Poor child ! Handsome, gay, and
good was also the former queen of Naples, who lived
so short a time and died, as it is asserted, in conse
quence of severe treatment. The queen who now sits
by the side of King Ferdinand seems also good and
agreeable, but the sun of Santa Lucia shines not for
her ! Two little princes are handsome children, with a
resemblance to their august papa.
Splendid fireworks have been given three times in
succession, in honour of San Gennaro. The Neapo
litans are masters of this art. Pity only it is that so
much art and so much money are spent so often upon
these empty pleasures, which are no longer pleasures to
the population of Naples. It has evidently had
enough of them.
September 24th. — Two days spent in the Museo Bor-
bonico have left with me this residuum : that which is
peculiar in this interesting museum consists in treasures
preserved from the cities buried in the ashes of Vesu
vius — Pompeii, Herculaneum, Stabias, St. Agatha, and
others, partly from the habitations of the living there,

358 REMAINS FROM POMPEII.
partly from the graves of the dead. One room is es
pecially devoted to a number of small curiosities found
in Pompeii. Amongst these one sees bread, eggs,
plums, figs, meal, spices, and many other things found
in the shops. All these articles are still recognizable,
although they have become hard and black ; there is
also the purse of Diomedes, coins, and various female
ornaments. In other rooms are preserved cooking-
utensils, lamps, and many articles of furniture from
private dwellings, nearly all of them ornamental and of
good workmanship.
The fresco-paintings from the buried and excavated
cities, the principal of which are collected here, all bear
witness to the strong concentration of mind upon the
life of the day and the hour. The enjoyment and the
beautifying of this is shown to be the chief thing, and
very naturally so, when the life beyond the grave fur
nished a dark question even to such minds as that of
Cicero. One mosaic picture from the splendid dwelling of
Diomedes — the only two-storied house in Pompeii —
seems to me to express the moral of the Pompeiian life.
It represents death under the form of a skeleton, with
a wine-flask in each hand. The moral is evidently this,
" Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die ! "
The most remarkable collection of vases found here
and in the graves of these cities, amounting to nearly
thirty-six thousand, do not appear to me to prove a
higher view of life. The pictures upon them, often of
great art and beauty, represent forms and scenes from
the ancient mythology, or half-historical antiquities —
scenes which the poet sung, sometimes also sacrifices,
and other ceremonies of the temple. These vases, I
have been told, were usually presents which the dead
received during their lifetime as tokens of esteem,

SELECT STATUES. 359
honorary presents, and so on, which were then placed
in the grave as memories which appertained to the
dead. The dead took with them into the grave pictures
of the whole of their earthly life. Whether with this
were united a longing or a hope which extended beyond
the grave is not, however, clearly exhibited in the pic
tured language of the funereal urns. But I speak of
this from my own impression, and without any certain
knowledge. The statues of the Consul Balbus and the members
of his family, found in Herculaneum, prove their great
skill in plastic portraiture, and the esteem in which the
merits of the citizen were held ; for these merits are
related in the inscriptions on the pedestal of the statue
of Balbus. His head is of the genuine Roman character,
and that of a noble kind. There is in the Egyptian
Museum a remarkable mummy of a young girl, which is
called Pharoah's daughter. The hair still remains upon
the well-formed head, and the hand, especially the
fingers, is remarkable for its great delicacy and
beauty of form ; but the colour is black, as is that of
the rest of the body, and its beauty of three thousand
years ago is frightful to behold.
I have from the statues retained three for the mu
seum of my own mind : —
1st, A noble .ZEsculapius, who holds in his hand the
capsule of the poppy, a beautiful emblem of the healing
virtues of rest and sleep, and of the power of mild
means of cure. This JEsculapius is decidedly a
Homoeopath. 2nd, A lovely little statue of Jupiter-Serapis,
found in his temple, on the coast of Pozzuoli. The
supreme god is here represented as a judge of the
under-world, as Pluto, and has a severe, but noble,
respect-inspiring exterior, far superior to the expression

360 THE MINISTER BIANCHINI.
of' the common Jupiter-head, with the low forehead,
and the upturned hair, which does not allow it to seem
higher. 3rd, Hercules Farnese, with the Hesperidean apples
in his hand. The mighty conflict has been gained, the
last of his victories ; the wonderful fruit which gives
immortality on earth is in his power, but his expression
is nevertheless one of weariness and dissatisfaction.
He holds the famous apples carelessly in his hand,
behind his back, and seems to say, " Were they indeed
worth so much labour ? "
Yes, indeed ! What is the use of combating for a
merely earthly immortality ?
I have heard from the learned Rabbi an old legend,
taken, I believe, from the Jewish Talmud. "Anciently,"
it says, " there was a city in which the air was so
healthy and so full of the vigour of life, that they who
dwelt there never died. This was soon known both far
and wide, and people of birth and fortune hastened
thither. And they lived there a long time. In a while,
however, people saw them one after another
stealing away silently that they might — be able to
die!" September 26th. — Wishing to visit some of the public
institutions of Naples, I was informed that I must apply
to the Minister of the Interior and of Police, Bianchini,
in order to do so. The Swiss Banker, Mr. M  , to
whom I had a letter from Mr. Delarue, of Genoa, and
who had shown me much kindness, undertook, in the
most polite manner, to convey my wishes to the
minister. The minister replied that he wished to
become personally acquainted with me. As 1 had
heard Bianchini spoken of in Naples as the only liberal
and progressive man in the present ministry, it was
very agreeable to me to make his acquaintance ; and

HIS GREAT WORK. 361
that, also, of his great work on political economy,
" Del ben vivere sociali," which was celebrated for con
taining much excellent matter. Mr. M  drove me
to his house in his carriage. It was still early in the
day. Entering a large room, we found a great number of
persons assembled, gendarmes, women and men, some
ill and others better dressed ; and amidst this throng
now stood and now moved about a tall, thin gentleman,
in plain clothes, with gray hair, pale countenance, and
handsome features, the expression of which was
insignificant, whilst his demeanour was animated. He
seemed to speak with every person, receiving the while
or returning great numbers of papers. His quick gray
eye soon perceived me and my friend, on which he
called to a servant, who on that conducted us through
the crowd into a vestibule, and thence to the minister's
private room. After a few minutes he came.
"Have I then the honour of seeing his excellency
Bianchini? " I asked, rising at the same time.
"Yes, madam," he replied; "I am that Bianchini,
of whom so much notice has been taken in Europe!
My work has been translated into many different
languages, and in Belgium they have established a
professor's chair for the sole purpose of enunciating my
doctrines. I have received for that work decorations
from fourteen crowned heads. All my predecessors
have deceived themselves — all have treated science as
the highest popular good ; one-sided this, and imperfect.
I alone have treated it in its completeness, and have
given it a sure basis ; I am the first who has compre
hended the question in its whole breadth ; the
first," &c, &c, &c.
Thus continued the speaker, whilst I sate amazed, in
silent wonder, at this naive self-glorification. When at

362 his views.
length he gave me the opportunity of saying anything,
I inquired about his system.
" No system," he replied, with vivacity ; " but I have
made it evident that neither happiness nor wealth can
be enduring to a nation if it do not rest upon order, &c,
a moral basis ; if the intelligence, the will, and morals
of a people are not of an elevated character, so as to
give a safe guidance to the material development, as
well as the chief direction to life. My doctrine, there
fore, is for all people and for all forms of government,
even for the republican — only not for the red republican,
because that, indeed, has no moral law."
I expressed my satisfaation in his views, and asked
by what means he conceived that so high a moral
stand-point could be attained to with the people.
He energetically avowed himself to be an advocate
of modern progression ; of " free trade, free communi
cation, railways," &c.
" And freedom of the press ? " I inquired.
" In a certain degree," he replied, " there must be
the censorship — but this ought to be rational, mild,
paternal ! "
"And — a free constitution ? " I asked.
But to this question he either would not listen or not
reply, and instead returned to his great work and its
great new idea, of the moral foundation being the chief
means of a nation's temporal well-being.
I know not when I have seen a man so naively cap
tivated by himself. But under a form of government so
despotic as that of Naples it is, nevertheless, an excellent
thing when a minister with two such important portfolios
has good desires and, to a certain degree, liberal tenden
cies. At the same time, these cannot effect much under
the present king. He alone is the ruling power in more
than a common degree, and will continue to be so; he

GENERAL DISSATISFACTION. 363
will not, therefore, allow his ministers to be called
ministers, but simply directors. They have merely to
obey him ; he is the chief director, decides alone on all
business which is brought before him, and appears to
have a more than usual ability and facility in its de
spatch. But these he employs solely to keep things in
statu quo, so that nothing can advance ; he has merely
one object in view, that of preserving his throne and
his life. Therefore he shuts his eyes to the most un
heard-of pecculation in the public management, and
makes thousands unhappy rather than displease a few
by severe justice. What I here relate I have heard
from Neapolitans, from men who are perfectly well ac
quainted vvith the state of things. Generally speaking,
the educated Neapolitans really feel a necessity to give
expression to their bitter dissatisfaction with their
government; they say that they are surrounded
by spies, and yet they speak with astonishing bold
ness and candour. It is only a few evenings since
when I heard a high civil officer express himself
thus : —
"Everything, everything, in the government is
managed by lies and malversation. The system of
government is too corrupt, and designed to enslave the
people, and the priesthood extends a helping hand to
the rulers in this respect. The priests who, in the year
1848, laboured to introduce a better state of things,
now occupy the prisons on the islands Nisida, Procida,
and Ischia, as well as at Salerno. Freedom of the press
does not exist in Naples, nor can be permitted in the
present state of things : it would bring about imme
diate revolution. The patriots who, at the close of the
last century, as well as who in the years 1821 and
1848, risked and lost their lives and property in the
attempt to prepare a happier future for their native

364 NOBLE ELEMENTS IN NAPLES.
land, have still descendants — spiritual disciples, ready
to follow their example when the hour arrives. The
existing state of affairs is intolerable to every right-
minded man. People endeavour to represent things in
Naples as better than they are, and to suppress all ex
pression and all revelation of the truth. Whilst the well-
intentioned minister of police dreams about "11 ben vivere
soriale, the police of Naples are precisely its very worst
bandits. For my part," so concluded the speaker, "as
I cannot say anything good about the government of
my country, neither can do anything to help its unfor
tunate condition, I consider it my duty to say as much
bad about it as possible ! That may probably lead to
some good result.''
A great deal is said about the Italian bravado in
words, especially the Neapolitans ; but it is a fact that
none of the Italian states furnished so many political
victims for the common fatherland as the kingdom of
Naples. It was in the valleys of Calabria that the
society of the Carbonari, who attempted the revolution
of 1821, had its rise. The noblest of the Neapolitan
families took part in the struggle of 1848. A great
number of nobles, learned men, and priests have occu
pied its prisons ever since. Naples, more than any
other Italian state, consists of two classes : an aristocracy
which is wealthy, possessed of much culture and
patriotism, with a strong feeling for liberty ; and a
people, ignorant, bound to the earth, without any higher
interest, but in a general way laborious, and which must
not by any means be judged of by the popular dregs
which are seen in the capital. A middle class cannot
as yet be said to exist in Naples, though it is beginning
to be formed by civil officials, learned men, advocates,
and physicians. The immensely rich soil of the Neapoli
tan provinces has other treasures than those which are

THE ARCHBISHOP. 365
continually anew brought forth, spite of the earth
quakes which overturn their towns and desolate their
harvests. Magna Grecia has still sons worthy of the
old fatherland, from their love of culture, science, and
freedom. A French Protestant clergyman, M. R  , who
preaches here under the protection of the Prussian
eagle, and expresses himself severely [enough against
the egotism and worldliness of the Neapolitan priest
hood, yet speaks of the present archbishop as a most
estimable man in every respect, a genuine Christian,
ready to sacrifice his life for the people, as was proved
during the late terrible visitation of cholera, when, like
the former Carlo Borromeo, he visited the most misera
ble dwellings, and laboured day and night to assist and
to console those who, both body and soul, stood in need
of consolation. That which he and many other well-
meaning persons here, also the friends of reform, do
not appear to understand is what Abbe Lambruscini
expresses in these words : — " We require a religious re
form as a basis for political reform — a reform not in
word, but in very deed — a reform, great, honest, per
fect, such as has not been wished for or thought of ! "
And Lambruscini therefore began, and began well,
by educating the children. He desired with the little
ones to give the conscience its right, to raise the sense
of duty, and to direct their love to everything which is
pure and noble.
As regards Bianchini's great work, "II ben vivere
sociale," I must say that I have read some chapters
with the sincerest pleasure, especially that on luxury,
a subject which I have nowhere seen better or more
perfectly treated. But as to the question of the means by
which a fallen people are to be again raised, and luxury
again become a source of the people's prosperity,

366 ABUNDANCE OF FOOD.
instead of its corruption — as to the question of what
can produce the " higher tact which assigns the true
proportions and the proper guidance in the use of the
gifts of life," Bianchini is in his book as little capable
of giving an answer as he was during my conversation
with him. He recommends " a good-will towards, and
a mind awakened to the best interests of the public in
the ruling powers." Of the only fully effective and
great means by which a free people can advance and a
fallen people again raise themselves — noble freedom in
every branch of political and civil life — of this the
Neapolitan minister of the Interior and of Police has
not any conception. If he had he would not probably
have long remained in his post.
October 1st. — I have been spending some days in
seeing that which is the best and worst in Naples.
I have so often heard speak of "the frightfully
miserable condition of the Neapolitan population," that
I took a little carriage, and, expressly commanding the
driver to take me to the very worst quarters both
of the city and the suburbs, found to my surprise
considerably less misery than I expected. I saw
everywhere the people at work, and in the very poorest
dwellings — the doors of which generally stood open —
comfortable beds, and clean linen ; sometimes the
families were at their meals, when everything looked
nice and orderly. The city overflows with articles of
food, especially vegetables and fruit. Immense pump
kins with golden-yellow insides, masses of pomi d'oro,
bright pepperoni, figs in ornamented pyramids with
yellow and red flowers between the rows, oranges, pears,
plums, apples, walnuts, and many more, fill the fruit-
stands, tables, or benches, or are carried about in large
baskets upon asses. One sees most people occupied in
eating. Of noise and crowding there is always

THE DANGEROUS STREET POPULATION. 367
enough, especially in the narrower streets, but quarrels
I have neither heard nor seen. The greater number of
the more , indigent population seem to be well-dressed
and industrious. It is true that one now and then
sees, even in the Toledo street — the principal trading
street in Naples — women and children lying near some
house, or before some gate, with countenances that
indicate wretchedness and savage anger; and in other
places men and women who exhibit diseased or imper
fect limbs, and call upon the passers-by, who generally
pay no attention at all — and indeed it is asserted that
these lying or sitting figures get up at night and
become dangerous to the wealthy foot-passengers ; but
upon the whole I have not seen in Naples more misery
than in London, Paris, or New York. The beggars
are more unabashed, that is all ; and one sees them most
numerously in the great squares, and the wealthy parts
of the city. They are so pertinacious, and they
generally look so wicked, as to awaken more disgust
than compassion. One comes to the conviction that it
is not so much food for the body which is wanting in
this population, but rather food for the soul and moral
culture. The most dangerous portion of the Neapolitan
population are its Lazzaroni, or Facchini, men who live
by occasional service, particularly in the carrying of
travellers' luggage, for which reason they become the
travellers' torment.
Amongst the most dangerous population of Naples
I must not, however, forget one portion. I blush to
mention it, but without which my description of Naples
would not be complete. There is in this city a quarter,
consisting of many streets and rows of houses, to which
there is merely one single gate, and except through
this neither ingress nor egress. Its fixed inhabitants
are only women — three or four hundred, I have been

368 THE MYSTERIES OF NAPLES.
told. These women receive visits, but do not themselves
go outside the gate without having permission from the
police. After a certain hour in the day none are
allowed to go out. In the evening a double watch is
placed at this gate, and within may be heard wild
noises and shouts, sometimes also cries and shrieks of
" help ! " and " murder ! " Then the guard hasten
within. I visited this quarter one day, accompanied by two
officers of police. It was noon ; the inhabitants seemed
to be all just up, some of them were plaiting their hair,
others sat idly in the streets. The greater number
were neither handsome, nor yet young. From the open
rooms shone out pictures of the Virgin Mary surrounded
with artificial flowers and other finery. Some young
men were to be seen who were treating the women with
liquor. As far as cleanliness and the state of the air
went, there was nothing to eomplain of. The police
watch over these things.
But this outward order in disorder, these Madonna
pictures in these homes of vice — I know nothing which
seemed to me to exhibit so clearly the depraved state
of society ! I know very well that a great deal of im
morality may exist in those cities which have no public
quarter devoted thereto, and that in many great cities
also they are compelled to publicity, in order to be able in
some measure to control disorder. Great cities have
all in a certain degree the same horrible mysteries.
The difference between Naples and those which I have
mentioned above, lies principally in this, that in these
last the Church and the better portion of the community
do much and still more to overcome the evil by good,-
but in Naples what is indeed done to prevent the same
from flourishing ? They place pictures of the Madonna
to conceal the acts of crime. But — they also do some
thing more.

CASA SANTA DELL' ANNUNZIATA. 369
Let me now say a few words about the benevolent
institutions in Naples, which I visited with a card
of introduction from the minister of the Interior.
I will commence with two, the most celebrated, and
to which immense funds have been given : Casa Santa
dett Annunziata, and Albergo Reale dei Poveri.
The first-mentioned institution receives all the young
children which are laid in an ever accessible " tour," or
kind of turning machine, at the open window of a room
in the institution. In this are laid daily from seven to
seventeen poor little creatures. These children, called
" the children of the Madonna," or the children of An
nunziata, are reared in various divisions of the building,
until they are old enough to be married or to go into
service. From two to three thousand children are thus
left annually in the wardship of the Madonna.
In the year 1838 two thousand and twenty-two
were received into the house, of whom considerably
more than half died. I did not greatly wonder at this,
when I saw the state of the children in the institution.
Most of them appear miserably weak and ill-con
ditioned. The three little creatures that were laid in
the turning: machine this morning seemed to me in a
much better state than any of those within the walls of
the institution. Many of these looked so emaciated,
that one felt ready to weep over them. There are for
three hundred infants only one hundred nurses. Many
were lying crying, and sucking their little hands.
Much worse still was the condition in the department
where the elder girls were brought up. Cleanliness
prevailed in the rooms and the beds appropriated to the
infants, but in those of the elder girls uncleanliness,
bad air, and a state of disorder, which was astonishing.
The girls of various ages who were employed about the
place looked so self-willed, and so impudent, as to
VOL. II. BB

370 ALBERGO REALE DEI POVERI.
excite disgust and sorrow. The otherwise good and
noble countenance of the nun who attended us through
the institution wore an expression of helplessness and
dejection, so that one could very well see that she had
undertaken a Sisyphus labour. Seven nuns had to
educate three hundred girls.
Once a year those who are marriageable amongst
these " daughters of the Madonna " are exhibited in a
court of the institution, and the men come to select
wives from amongst them. Every girl who is married
from the institution receives a dowry of twenty-five
ducats, and these ducats may lead many men to take
the unattractive girls, merely for the money's sake.
Albergo Reale dei Poveri — which has a vast, magnifi
cent, and yet insignificant facade, is said to provide
food and a dwelling-place for seven hundred old men,
as well as education for eleven hundred boys, who are
there taught various trades. But where were all these
children? Not in the institution. The workshops
were empty ; the boys were said to be out on Free
Thursday, but we could not in the dormitories discover
more than about two hundred beds. The old men,
again, were " in the country, or out on visits." We
did not see above half-a-dozen of them. The institu
tion is said to have an immense income, which is con
sumed by the directors and servants. Misapplication
and embezzlement are never punished.
I saw in the House of Correction about a hundred
women, most of whom looked cheerful and careless.
They had just partaken of an excellent soup, which
the king allows, and all that they can earn during
their imprisonment belongs to themselves ; one gran
alone from every carlin, or ten grans, being deducted
for the expenses of their detention. The dormitories
and beds were better than in the Albergo dei Poveri.

BOYS' REFORMATORY, ETC. 371
People commend the mercy and charity of the king :
I could not see anything commendable in this excessive
kindness to the criminal.
The Reformatory for Boys, founded by the Jesuit,
Father Cutanelli, on the contrary, seemed to me really
excellent, and everyway suitable to its purpose.
" Thou shalt eat thy bread in the sweat of thy brow,"
is the inscription which he had placed over the gate ;
and it was a pleasure to see how cleverly and how well
the boys worked. Two-thirds of the profits of their
labour belong to them. Music is one of their rewards,
and prepares them for still further earnings. I heard
some pieces of music excellently performed by about
fifty boys, on wind instruments. Padre Cutanelli, who
is mild, clever, and somewhat humorous-looking, was
himself present, and seemed to be the soul of the insti
tution. Two handsome and remarkably good-looking
boys, about fourteen or fifteen years of age, accom
panied him as his adjutants, which was a kind of post
of honour.
Another institution, which seems to me to -be sus
tained by the management and care of a distinguished
man, is the Ospedale degli Incurabili, founded four hun
dred years since by Maria Longi, a rich and pious lady.
It contains twelve hundred beds, but these are quite
insufficient for the number of sick who desire to be
received there ; and the day when I visited the esta
blishment a religious ceremony had that morning taken
place for the consecration of a number of new beds, the
gift of a signora. It was a pleasure to go with the
director through the spacious apartments in which the
poor lay, because he was greeted as a friend by many
amongst them. He seemed to me an earnest man, full
of human kindness, who had the honour and well-being
of the establishment at heart; a man gifted with a
BB 2

372 THE "gold fish."
more than usually open, kind, and winning manner.
The Lunatic Asylum, at an hour's distance from
Naples, is celebrated for the great merits of the
gentleman who is the principal. In the benevolent in
stitutions of Naples everything seems to depend upon
the fitness or unfitness of him who is at their head.
Above him there is merely the king ; the king resides
at Gaeta, and never thinks of any alterations. Well
is it, then, for those institutions where no alterations are
needed. But what shall I say of thee, thou " most precious
home for  " something, I do not know what to call
it, but which is called — " the education of noble young
ladies" — but in what, and to what purposes, I could
not properly understand — the beautiful convent, which
greatly resembles a palace, where lovely women in
golden-yellow veils enjoy life, somewhat in the manner
of the gold fish which sun themselves in the marble
basin of the court ! The convent stands in the Largo
del Mercato, and the good nuns made us more than
once observant that from the grated windows and the
piazza of the roof they could see everything which went
forward there. They were highly delighted with, and
not a little proud of, a great number of pictures of
Christ and the Virgin, which were worthy the admira
tion of the gold fish. In the meantime, both old and
young were so friendly, so cheerful in their appearance
and manners — gold-coloured veils thrown back produced
such a sunny effect — so agreeable in their mode of be
haviour, that it was impossible not to like them, and
not to feel oneself happy amongst them.
" I feel as if I had known you a thousand years,"
said the handsome abbess to me, as she looked at me
with an expression beaming with kindness. Her de
meanour was that of a princess in its dignity and grace.

CHARACTERISTICS OF NAPLES. 373
Little Elsa had the greatest inclination to bid farewell
to the world and to the Waldensian, and take up her
abode here. But one must have a little of the gold fish
nature to be comfortable for any length of time in this
kind of still life. When we left, the nuns assembled in
the beautiful court, shaded with its large trees, and at
the great arched gateway, to bid us good-bye. They
kissed their hands to us, nodded, and made parting
signs, and looked so handsome and so happy, standing
there in their brilliant head-dresses, that I felt myself,
as it were, a little dazzled by it. Nor was it till after
wards that the question suggested itself, What is the
object of these great means? — for the convent is im
mensely rich. It is true that a hospital for sick women,
who are to be attended to by the nuns, is connected
with this convent. Perhaps I was wrong in supposing
that the good sisters thought far less of this than the
Largo del Mercato, the gold fish, and the gilded
pictures.* During these and other rambles in Naples I have
become tolerably well acquainted with the city. It is,
for the most part, a network of streets, narrow lanes,
and squares, without any beauty. It is most peculiar
in those portions of the city where are the shops of the
workers in gold and silver, and all kinds of trinkets,
the delight of the Neapolitan people. There are great
numbers of these shops. The only part of the city
which is beautiful is that which lies nearest to the har-
* Amongst the women of Naples who of late years have distin
guished themselves, are two, who have acquired celebrity as national
poetesses, of no ordinary power and inspiration. The one belongs
to the educated classes ; her views of human life are of the highest
order, and her language vigorous and full of fire. The second is
a girl, taken from the children of the streets, but educated and
cared for by noble Neapolitan ladies. " La Milli " has become the
ardent improvisatrice of noble and patriotic aims. — Author's note.

374 CAMALDULI MONASTERY.
bour, with the square of Santa Lucia, Largo del Cas-
tello, with its beautiful Fortuna Medina, Largo del
Palazzo, and various others, as well as the lovely city
quay, and its incomparable pleasure-grounds, Villa
Reale. Beautiful, also, are, or rather will be, the pro
menade over II Vomero, which is laid out round the
city, and from which the most perfect view will be
afforded of the city itself, its harbour, the bay, and the
whole neighbourhood.
People go to the fortress of St. Elmo and to the Ca-
malduli Monastery, on the heights above Naples, for the
enjoyment of the view. Ladies are not, however, al
lowed to enter the court of the convent. My young
friend and I were therefore obliged to remain outside,
but with a view grand and lovely enough to console us,
whilst the gentlemen were admitted. They returned
quite amazed by the splendour which they found in the
church, which is said to be inordinately rich, and the
elegance which prevailed in the cells of the hermits.
For every brother of the order has his own little
house, that he may all the more completely devote
himself to his pious contemplations. These little
dwellings appeared to our friends remarkably comfor
table and ornamental — some of them actual boudoirs.
We sometimes met with the good Cenobites on our
rambles in the neighbourhood of Naples ; their white
woollen dresses make them as distinguishable as their
good complexions, which are sometimes quite too florid,
and form a striking contrast to the sunburnt leanness
of the Neapolitan people. Pious father ! pious Camal-
duli ! do you get such bright complexions from prayers,
contemplation, and self-mortification?
Amongst the popular amusements of Naples must
be mentioned the theatres : San Carlino, where comic
pieces and farces are given, and where an excellent Pul-

CASERTA. 375
cinello represents, in a splendid manner, the Neapolitan
popular character in its boldness, cunning, ignorance,
shamelessness, frivolity and good temper, all in one.
Men and women act there with so much nature, and
such a comic abandon, that one is ready to take the
whole thing seriously. I have never since I was young
laughed so heartily at any theatre as at this. Some
times the piece is improvised for the occasion. The
Pulcinelh of the theatre is a genius in his way.
October 12th. — We have also visited the castle, the
churches, and the royal parks. I have merely retained
in remembrance, from the royal castle, the beautiful por
traits of Rembrandt, as well as of other artists of the
Netherlands, of which there is here a great number.
What mastership in painting, what genius in the con
ception of human individuality ! Never have I com
prehended the greatness of Rembrandt as I have been
able to do here. His subjects are seldom beautiful,
but what light there is in these eyes, what perfect pe
culiarity, and what a perception of the most delicate
shades in these physiognomies ! One is not shewn a
human being in general, but every portrait gives a dis
tinct human being, a fully stamped, free, thinking, con
scious individuality. And the painting ! I do not know
whether the Italian school has ever produced anything
so delicate, clearly defined, and harmoniously perfected
as this.
We had not very much enjoyment of our journey to
Caserta. The castle seemed to us devoid of everything
but gilding, water-works, and many other devices in the
stiff old French style, without, however, being compara
ble to those of Versailles or Cassel. Besides, we were
persecuted with showers of rain. The morning, on the
contrary, was glorious, which we spent at Portici, in the

376 HERCULANEUM — VILLA REALE.
large, open, beautiful grounds there, a real wood of
lovely trees; after which we went to Herculaneum.
The theatre there still lies quite underground — we
heard the dull thunder of carriages, which rolled above
our heads. Some private houses and streets have been
excavated, and lie open to the day. They are of the
same character as those of Pompeii, and appeared to
me like miniature palaces and miniature dwellings.
There was in one of them a little room, where stood a
small altar, on which was offered sacrifices of doves 'or
fieldfares, so diminutive was it. In one deep prison for
slaves skeletons have been found secured with iron.
I pass over other excursions, in order to say still a
few words about Villa Reale, where I usually begin and
end my day — for there it is unspeakably beautiful in
the early morning, whilst the dew still shines on the
grass, and the little white clover-flowers with which it
is gemmed, and the shadows lie dark and sharp at the
feet of the white marble statues, and on the velvet-
smooth turf under the large trees. All is then tran
quil and silent, with no sound but the playful splash
of the fountains over their basins, in which the gold
fish swim about, the sun sends down his beams amongst
the leafy groves, the white marble temples and beau
tiful statues seeming to shine into an actual paradise.
In the evening I again go there in company with the
betrothed, who there appear happier than usual. It is
then delicious to inhale the cool evening air, to listen
to the dash of the waves against the shore, and to see
their phosphoric light ; whilst farther out, on the Bay of
Naples, red fires shine from the fishing-boats, which by
that means attract their prey. Thus we wander whilst
the shadows thicken around us and the starry heavens
brighten above, and we see the beautiful comet, with its
brilliant tail, like a bird of paradise, career through

A PICTURE FROM VIRGIL. 377
space. We generally conclude the evening there with
a mezza granita, a kind of lemonade ice, at a little con
fectioner's in the walks. Sometimes, also, we take a boat
and are rowed out to the shore of Pozzuoli, past the
ruins of the palace of Queen Joanna, enjoy the beauty
of the sea, and the light of the blue phosphoric fire,
which here and there shines as the little boat furrows
the water. Sometimes, again, I return home alone, whilst
the lovers go to see the splendid fireworks, which are
being continually exhibited, just lately two evenings in
succession, in honour of Saint Brigitta. In this way
we have promenaded and enjoyed ourselves, until the
last three days, when we have been kept prisoners with
bad weather and rain. I have availed myself of this
time in writing letters, which have long been weighing
on my conscience with a sense of unfulfilled duty. The
weather generally clears for an hour in the afternoon,
and immediately is the broad Chiaja crowded by a num
ber of equipages of all kinds, amongst which the great
equipage of the populace, the Corricolo, always astonishes
and amuses me, loaded as it is with from twenty to thirty
people, men, women and children, sitting, hanging on,
hanging to, one does not rightly see how, and drawn by
one horse, which gallops at full speed. I have, however,
already mentioned it. But amongst the great occupiers
of the promenades I have omitted to speak of those
most constant, ever since the times of Virgil, namely,
the goats, which during the whole afternoon come up
in little flocks, with their herds, from the side of Poz
zuoli, where they have been grazing, to the city, to be
milked and spend the night. As soon as it is four
o'clock in the afternoon I hear their little bells ringing
along the Chiaja, where, undisturbed by the driving
and noisy great world, they move past the grave of the
poet who has so sung of them in his pastorals.

378 THE PRINCESS ELSA'S RELATIONS.
Whilst I write and watch animals and men, my
summer-daughter is generally singing — she is just now
in a sort of musical intoxication. We live in the same
good boarding-house as at my first arrival in Naples.
I have again my old room looking on the Chiaja, and
my summer-daughter has one towards the gardens,
with oleanders peeping in at the window. There was
not room for Waldo in the house,' which was annoying.
Of the former guests I find here merely the diplomat.
He is one of those Catholics whose faith in the infalli
bility and honesty of the Catholic Church has been en
tirely shaken by the unexpected dogma of L'lm-
maculata, and he now knows not what to believe. He
has become a sceptic. Amongst the new guests here
are the aunt of my summer-daughter, an Austrian
Baroness  , with her husband and daughter, with
whom she, little Elsa, is ,to spend the winter in Flo
rence. They do not appear greatly pleased by her
engagement to a Protestant, and had other plans for
her. This and their music, for the whole family is
musical, have attracted little Elsa somewhat away from
me, and even from the good Waldo, who, when he
comes, longing for a few moments' peace with the
beloved of his soul, finds her surrounded by strangers,
meets with a half intelligible glance, and is received
with a Princess Elsa demeanour ; for her mind is now
occupied by very different thoughts, and is engrossed
by Schubert or Chopin, and I know not by what other
composers and compositions of genius, which she plays
or sings with her musical relations. He waits in
silence for awhile, but when the music continues too
long he goes away with an expression which it grieves
me to see. The following evening, however, she will
be amiable, and perfectly her own sweet self again — and
he, happy and delighted, wishing to introduce the sub-

PRINCE VILLA OMBROSA. 379
ject of rings, and the time of their marriage, and so
on; she then becomes silent, grave, and will not
answer. I begin again to be uneasy, and to ask
silently, "What will be the end of it?"
October 18th. — For some days things have gone on
very painfully. I do not know what ill wind has
brought hither the Prince of Villa Ombrosa, the ele
gant prince who was Elsa's first fancy — the Carnival
flame, who wrote to her those beautiful verses, gave
those delicious bouquets, and swore to love her eter
nally. He is a handsome young man, agreeable,
and musical, a great dancing-master, as I believe,
but a vast favourite with the Baroness  , who
became acquainted with him last winter in Rome. He
now comes here almost every evening, and though I
do not believe in any earnest liking for him in little Elsa's
heart, yet she is evidently carried away by the enjoy
ment of playing her splendid pieces of music and talk
ing with him. In this state of affairs the Waldensian
grows more and more serious and silent ; and when the
elegant and lovely girl, after having bestowed upon
him, from the piano, a kind little glance, seems to
think no more about his presence, but to go on with
her music, he very soon disappears without saying a
word. Yesterday he came early. She and I were
alone in the drawing-room. She had been suffering
from headache, and was playing on a guitar belonging
to the prince to amuse herself, singing the while a plain
tive little canzone. She was going to a party that eve
ning with her aunt, and was already dressed in white
muslin, with a spray of light blue flowers arranged
amongst the brown plaits of hair, and falling carelessly
on the neck and the shoulders, and with pearl bracelets
on her delicate wrists — she looked most charming!
He entered, bent down to her, and would have kissed

380 A RAVEL IN THE SKEIN OF LOVE.
her, but she hastily drew herself aside with an air that
seemed to say, " Do not disturb me ! "
He turned pale, and seated himself at some distance
opposite to her, looking at her with a grave and
inquiring expression. When she had finished her can-
zonetta she raised her eyes, and, looking directly at the
grave countenance of her lover, exclaimed play-
fully:- " Look at that great Hercules ! How he has fixed
his eyes on me ! I believe he wants to frighten me !
How droll he is I "
She rested her sweet face on her hands, and looked
at him with an expression of comic defiance. He rose
and approached her. How was it that the Baroness
 entered just at that moment with her daughter,
and desired that they should once more sing over
together the piece with which they were to produce a
brilliant effect that evening ?
The Princess Elsa was again devoted to music, and
Hercules again went his way. ,
To-day he came in the forenoon, and wished to see
Elsa, but she had a severe headache, and could not
receive his visit. Neither could I see him alone, having
some foreign visitors with me — and since then he has
not returned. It is now evening, and late. All
is silent in Elsa's chamber; she is asleep, and in her
sleep looks like a good and innocent child — and so she
is, only too much carried away by the impulse of the
moment. I long to talk with her unreservedly, and to
warn her seriously not to risk the peace of her own
life, and that of another, by continuing her present
mode of conduct ; yet still, at the same time, I am a
little shy of this conversation. Have I not already
busied myself too much with the fate of this child ?
Have I any right to guide it into the course in which I

AGAIN AT POMPEII. 381
believe that her happiness lies? Am I clairvoyant
with regard to the inner relationship of these two?
One thing, however, I am certain of, and that is, that
this state of unclearness and indecision must come to
an end — that she must be candid with herself and him ;
and this I ought to tell her, and will tell her when she
is better. I know how well she receives every word of
affectionate admonition.
October 21st. — Little Elsa still continued unwell on
the morning after the day on which I wrote last. The
Baroness  established herself in her room, with
" HHistoire de ma Vie" by George Sand ; and I, in
order to dissipate my anxiety and impatience as
regarded the position of affairs, took the train to
Pompeii. I wished once more, in perfect quietness, to
visit this grand memento mori, and to converse there
with the dead, and with my ovm thoughts. In an
hour's time I was there.
I engaged at the entrance a cicerone, who seemed
to me a rational, good sort of person, telling
him that I wished to walk about the city according
to my own fancy, and required him, therefore, only to
attend me at a distance. The day was glorious : I
was the sole visitor to Pompeii, and I went freely
wherever I chose in the desolated city. Excited as my
feelings were by the present disquiet of life, my ram
bles through the ancient dwellings of the dead became
doubly significant. I saw again the decorative private
habitations, with those small rooms, those beautiful
fresco paintings, often representing scenes of sensual
pleasure — the flower-court, with its impluvium, or
reservoir, in the centre, its enclosure of ornamental
columns, those small, shell-decorated fountains and
figures of the gods — all that little world inclosed
within the gate of home. Yes, she might be happy

382 CHRISTIANITY THE LIBERATOR OF WOMAN.
there, the wife, the mother, who possessed the object of
her love, who loved and was beloved — and even the
young girl who beheld in the flowers of the rose court,
and in the pictures within her own room, half clear
prophecies of a future life of love and life-enjoyment.
But a daughter or a sister who is not loved ? A de
serted wife ? Or a woman for whom the life of the
sitting-room was too narrow, but who would not pur
chase her freedom by becoming a Lais or an Aspasia?
Oh, if women would but rightly reflect for how much
they have to thank Christianity ! The time of silent
sighs has ceased, and the forum of humanity is acces
sible to every feeling, thinking soul. A spirit of justice,
of reason, of brotherhood, breathes over the fields and
dwellings of the earth. Homes are no longer locked
up like prisons — free paths for labour, for talent, and
human love are everywhere connected with them. Life
has become freer, nobler, happier to the greater mass,
and it becomes more and more so every day, thanks be
to Him who proclaimed and perfected by His life God's
law of love !
I again walked through the Street of Tombs — the Via
Appia of Pompeii — and rested for awhile on the large
semi-circular marble seat, on the back of which stands
inscribed, in large letters, " Mamia sacerdotessa." Behind
this bench, in a hollow valley, stands her beautiful, and
still well-preserved, marble monument. At that time
some few women were honoured who were elevated by
beauty or the virtues of civil life. This was a great
thought, and its inheritance has, perhaps, not been
sufficiently attended to by the people of the present
time. I looked over the whole city from a portion of the
walls, which are still in great preservation. Tranquil
as a dead body on a flower-covered bier, it lay on the

THE LIVING EYES OF POMPEII. 383
Campagna Felice, at the outlet of the Sarno to the
sea, surrounded by the fertile and vine-covered hills of
Torre del Greco, at the foot of Vesuvius. The summit
of the mountain still smoked, and in the brightness of
the midday sun it seemed as if enveloped in a varie
gated velvet cloak. The hardened lava streams shone
out upon it like glowing embroidery. The volcano stood
there like a pitiless despot, calmly smoking his noon
day pipe, in luxurious far niente, whilst his victim lay
at his feet without a complaint and without a murmur,
silent for ever.
Yet not silent ; still, indeed, speak those glances
from the walls, those wonderful glances, full of soul
and intelligence. I saw, as I wa3 leaving Pompeii, a
pair of eyes which I shall never forget. It was near
the Street of Tombs,' on a gray wall, a female head, with
an ornament of snakes in her hair. The snakes had
become dimmed to insignificance, but the young, beau
tiful countenance stood forth distinctly, with eyes full
of tears, full of a silent despair, directed towards
heaven. That seeking glance, with its speechless, suf
fering questioning, from the unhappy, from the sinful
soul, still lives in that gay Pompeii, in the midst of
those beautiful dwellings, those life-rejoicing frescoes !
What a long consuming agony must have been endured
before it received an answer from the then unknown
Divinity !
I felt, when in the evening I returned to Naples, as
if I had been in a bath of earnest, purifying thought.
Life had assumed an aspect of light which gave me the
sense of being able to talk with my summer-daughter
in such a manner as would make all right again. In
what way I did not exactly know; but clear and
straightforward things must be, and whether her en
gagement were by that means brought to a close, or still

384 HASTY FAREWELLS.
more firmly bound, the relationship must still remain
pure and good. Ah ! I have often felt and believed so,
and I have acted accordingly, but —
Elsa had left her bed. She was sitting at the piano
and playing a fantasia to herself, apparently oblivious
of any other person being near her. I went out upon
the balcony from the drawing-room, and felt a peculiar
pleasure in listening to her variations on a few notes,
the fervour and sweetness of which went to my heart,
and which were ever repeated, always with a new ex
pression. I felt that they proceeded from her own
heart, and I anticipated everything that was good from
them. The dusk of evening increased, the lamps were
lighted in Villa Reale, the fire-streams of Vesuvius
gleamed yet red, though almost immovable, through
the increasing darkness. Still she continued playing
on, modulating the same sweet, heartfelt, melancholy
notes. " When she has finished," I said to myself, " I will
call her here, and we will have some talk !"
I was then surprised by the sound of hasty steps,
and a tall figure stood near me.
" Waldo !" I exclaimed, glad to see him, and ex
tended to him my hand. He pressed it, and I felt that
his was burning as with fever.
" I have been looking for you," he said, softly ; " I
wished to bid you farewell !"
"Farewell? How? Why?"
" I am leaving this very night," he resumed, speak
ing low and hastily, as if with suppressed emotion;
"leaving for Sicily, and thence to Greece or Alex
andria — I do not know which — with the first vessel !
I cannot, I ought not to remain longer, either for her
sake or my own. I now know it — I have seen it — I
understand it — she does not love me ; she cannot love

MAGNANIMITY. 385
me; she has wished, she has endeavoured to do so,
but — she cannot, and I neither will nor can compel
her to become my wife without love. No ! I will
not force this child to love me, I will not abuse either
the goodness or the weakness of her heart. My love
for her, and my own self-respect, forbid me to do so. I
should despise myself if  Tell her that I shall
always love her, but that she is free ; but do not tell
her so till I am gone, till there is no longer the fear of
her own heart's tenderness deceiving herself and —
me, and inducing her again to promise what she cannot
perform. But you — her motherly friend — do you
watch over her ; prevent her from being deceived by
that selfish woman, her aunt, or by that butterfly
prince, who flutters from flower to flower ! May she
live for her innocent fancies, for her kinder-gartens, and
her twelve female friends, if she do not meet with a
husband who will make her as happy as I would
have done. But she must, for this reason, be left to
her own independent action. I have now become ac
quainted with her circumstances, and she herself has
sufficient knowledge of business to know that her small
paternal inheritance is insufficient for her wants. She
must experience vvant and necessity, if she be not able
to earn money by giving instruction in music, which,
with her peculiar disposition and delicate health, must
merely be another species of suffering. This thought
is intolerable to me. When I leave her I must know
that she is safe from this bitter experience of life. I
have myself obligations to fulfil, and have not, as yet,
sufficient opulence to do all for her that I could have
wished ; but I have opened for her an account in the
Bank of Genoa, and placed deposits in the funds at
Marseilles, which, added to her own little property, will
insure her a life free from anxiety. And this brings
VOL. II. CC

386 UNSELFISH LOVE.
me to my request from you. She must never know
that this provision has come from me ; her pride and
her sense of honour would lead her to hesitate in ac
cepting it. Tell her, I beseech of you, that it is
according to the will of a distant relative or a de
ceased friend of her father. She is childish and care
less enough in such matters to believe it without asking
further questions. Promise me so to manage as that
she shall believe this ; and here are the necessary papers,
which you must place in the hands of her uncle ; he is
a good man, and the knowledge of the whole business
must go to her through him. I had intended these
documents to have been a marriage present to my
wife. I had a pleasure in the thought of making
her in this way independent of me, even as my wife ;
they shall now secure her independence in another
way. It will be a comfort to me to think of this
when I can no longer see, no longer hear her — when I
am far away ! Oh, that child ! that child ! "
He covered his face with his hands, and I perceived
that he wept.
" Waldo 1" I said, deeply affected, "you are mag
nanimous. And yourself  ? "
" I — I shall die unmarried. I am accustomed to
solitude — to the solitude of the heart ! In my child
hood I was lonely, and felt it bitterly. Then came the
business and interests of active life, and engaged my
attention so that I forgot the emptiness in heart and
home. I once believed that I loved, and that I was
loved in return, but I found myself deceived, and
resolved never more to seek for happiness in a woman's
love. I then met with this child, and for the first time
I have loved with my whole soul, with my whole heart.
Yes, I have worshipped her, that young woman, that
wonderful child! I fancied myself quite certain of

WALDO'S DEPARTURE. 387
making her happy ; I fancied that we were suited to
each other; and this love and this desire to live for her
made me young again. Perhaps it was a self-deception —
perhaps I am too old for her ! She is so young, so
much a child still. How indeed can autumn be united
to spring ?  Well, well ; this folly, this dream is over.
The evening of my life will not be gay; but neither
will it be gloomy. I can work, and — but I must make
an end. It is now late. Tell her that I love her, that
I always shall love her, and that she will see me again —
as an old man, when she is a blooming, happy wife and
mother ; because then, then I will come to see her —
yet once more.  And now my thanks and my bless
ings for your friendship ! Keep in remembrance what
you have promised me, and — farewell I"
He embraced and kissed me, and I felt his tears
upon my face. I too wept like a child, and could
scarcely speak. I still detained him, and said in my
emotion, " Promise me not to leave Sicily till you have
had one letter from me !"
But he made no reply, hastily pressed my hand, and
hurried away.
They had lighted the gas lamps in the music salle,
and I saw the Princess Elsa standing there, surrounded
by a little group of courtiers, with whom she was gaily
talking with beaming glances. Amongst these was
the Prince of Villa Ombrosa. It cut me to the heart.
1 felt excited against her, and, without speaking a word
to her, I went into my own room, and pretended to be
asleep when later in the evening she came to bid me
good night. I was, however, unable to sleep.
The next morning she met me with uneasy, ques
tioning glances. I asked her to come to my room, and
then I told her that Waldo was gone, and that she was
CC2

388 elsa's DESPAIR.
free! She turned pale, trembled, seated herself, and
grew ever paler and paler.
" Are you not glad," I asked, " to be liberated from
an engagement which seemed to have become irksome
to you?"
" I had no idea of breaking it," she returned ; " I
have merely been a little out of sorts these few days.
I have been in a strange state of mind — very dis
agreeable, but — why has he not had a little patience,
a little confidence in me? If he be unhappy, I can
never, never be happy !•  "
" But the Prince of Villa Ombrosa?"
" I like to talk with him, and to dance with him ;
but I have no further regard for him ; he can never be
to me what Waldo is ! Was he very angry with me ?
Is it possible that he could so far misunderstand me ? "
And tears trickled from under the long eye-lashes
down the pale cheeks, and she continued to tremble.
I now told her all that occurred between Waldo and
me, because I had not promised to be silent. When I
had ended, and shewed her the papers he had placed in
my hands, and which secured to her an independent
life, her tears ceased to flow ; she rose up, pale but
resolute, with eyes that beamed through tears.
" Cannot we reach him ? Cannot we still see him ?"
she asked.
" I besought him not to leave Sicily before he had
heard from me; but as he made me no answer, -I can
not be sure," I replied.
" Let us go, Fredrika, this very day, if it be possible!
You will, in any case, very shortly be going to Sicily.
Go now, and let me accompany you ! Oh, I feel as if
my heart must break ; that my life is for ever darkened
if I cannot regain him, if- I cannot devote my whole
life to him I"

WE LEAVE NAPLES. 389
She stood with clasped hands; her whole soul lay
upon her lips.
" Well, well, my child," said I, " we will go by the
first vessel which leaves for Sicily ; but I am afraid
that we must wait a few days. In the meantime, let us
prepare everything. But what will your aunt say?"
" Just what she likes. Waldo is my betrothed hus
band, the friend of my soul, of my heart ! Without
him I cannot be happy. Oh, how he loves ! And how
contemptible I should be if after this I should think
of my own happiness apart from his !"
Her mind all at once became firm and clear, and it
seemed to become still more and more so every hour
during the three days which it was necessary for us to
wait before another steamer left for Palermo. How
she was sustained during these three days I know not,
for she neither ate, drank, nor slept. She also spoke
very little ; but life seemed to be concentrated in the
innermost of her heart. We were to set off in the
evening, and in sixteen hours we should be in Palermo.
Everything was now ready. Elsa lay on her bed
sleepless ; and I wrote to dissipate my own uneasiness
and anxiety.
"Perhaps I needed this trial," she said just now,
" in order to prove to me how much I was attached to
him!" If he could but see her as I now see her ! Shall I
ever again hear her singing gaily as in former days?
0! dolce Napoli, 0! suol beato! Amidst autumnal
storms I now leave thy soil, rich beyond all others in
the grand works of art and nature — in great memories,
and pleasant, quiet life in their shade ! I have seen
beauty and love here as never before anywhere on
earth; but at this moment all is covered as with the
veil of sorrow, even the usually bright heavens. May

390 AT PALERMO.
good angels protect our voyage, and a love which pro
ceeds from the Author of all love !
'„• . Palermo {Sicily), October 25th. — I take gold-tinted
paper, on which to write the name Palermo, on which
to write about Palermo and all the sunny joy which
shone and shines upon us here ! In the first place,
however, I will speak of our love-story.
The night-passage was stormy ; but one of the good
Sardinian vessels which cross these waters conveyed us
safely through the foaming waves in sixteen hours into
the bay of Palermo. Little Elsa, who during the
whole night had lain with closed eyes, silent, and more
like one dying than living, rose and gazed with anxious
eyes towards the shore, as if asking for something
there. Every object shone in a golden sun-light —
the hill of Santa Rosalia to the right as if it had been
of gold, the magnificent Marina, and the handsome
houses on the terraces, which extend its whole length.
One of these is taller than all the rest — it is the H6tel
Trinacria, the principal hotel of Palermo. We inquired
there after the friend for whom we were seeking.
" A gentleman of that name," replied the host,
" came here with the last steamer ; but he is extremely
ill, has been bled many times, and  "
The host here checked himself hastily, for he saw
my poor young friend stagger and fall, at least she
would have fallen, if we had not caught her and con
ducted her to a seat.
He then hastened to add to his information, " but he
is much better, and no doubt will soon be quite restored,
and — but will you not, ladies, come in and see your
rooms ? "
" Give us good rooms, and send up coffee ! But, in
the first place, let us have a glass of water ! "
"He is really here — he is better; you shall see him,

WALDO. 391
shall be his nurse ; everything will become right ! " I
repeated over and over to my poor Elsa, who was pale,
rigid, and almost lifeless.
She merely replied, "I could not survive if he
died ! "
" But he is not going to die ; he will live," I said,
assuringly ; " only do you so contrive as not to die of
starvation and anxiety, because then I promise nothing,
and I will not have the trouble of burying you both !"
She could not help smiling, and I induced her to
swallow a few drops of coffee — " for his sake ! "
I then went to his door ; she accompanied me, trem
bling, but resolute.
" He is asleep," said his servant to me, in an under
voice — " he is better, thank God ! " The good fellow
had tears in his eyes, which beamed with joy.
We entered. Waldo was sleeping calmly, but was
very pale and much changed. " A severe attack of
inflammation of the liver, the doctor says," whispered
Rafael — " but all danger is now over ; he has been bled
seven times ! "
Little Elsa had sunk on her knees by his pillow, and
tears silently flowed down the pale cheeks as she bent
over him. He woke and saw her. Had he been
dreaming about her, and believed this to be the con
tinuation of his dream? Certain, however, is it that
he did not look astonished. He gazed long and deeply
at her, as if he would convince himself that it was
really her ; after which he stretched out his arms, laid
them round her as he said, " If it be a dream, then let
me never wake again ! "
I made a sign to Rafael, and we two went into the
ante-room, leaving the door of the sick chamber open.
All was silent within, silent as when united souls after
long separation meet again never to be parted more.

392 PERFECT UNION.
There is then no need of words ; words are almost dis
turbing — the language of the eye is sufficient.
When, after ten minutes, I re-entered the room, the
two remained just as before — she upon her knees with
her arms round his neck, he gazing blissfully at her, and
with his fingers lightly stroking away the tears, which
again and again welled from the fountains of her eyes.
In the meantime they softly mentioned each other's
name — it was music ! I bent softly over them, and
said : —
"Enough now for the moment. You both require
rest. The physician has, as I hear, ordered for Waldo
a cup of weak bouillon at twelve o'clock in the day.
Your little sweetheart shall herself bring it to you ;
but till that time she must come with me ! "
But neither of them moved ; it was as though that
they would not or could not understand me. Waldo
alone said softly, "Part? part again?" and he clasped
her still more fervently in his arms, and drew her head
to his breast.
" Waldo," I said to him, calmly, " spare her, she
requires perhaps at this moment more care than you do.
Since the day you left she has neither eaten anything,
nor slept."
" Good heavens ! " exclaimed he, at once coming to
full consciousness — " I will no longer detain her ; take
care of her till I myself — which will be soon — can watch
over her ! Rise, my beloved ! go and rest, so that I
may soon, very soon see you again, my child, my soul's
peace and health ! " and he stroked her head caress
ingly, but it did not move; it lay heavily on the
white coverlet — little Elsa slept ! It was now three
days and nights since she had taken rest.
He gently raised her head, kissed her forehead, her
eyes, and her lips ; she looked at him as in a magnetic

THE CONVALESCENT. 393
sleep, smiled, and, half-unconscious, allowed me to lead
her away. She now slept for four hours. Just at
twelve o'clock she started up, still half-asleep, and said,
" Bouillon ! "
" Very good, my child ! " I replied ; " you shall have
it to take to him ; but now sit down and collect your
self, whilst I ring and have it brought hither ! "
October 21th. — I was interrupted in my narrative.
But all has gone on well, in the meantime, excellently.
Waldo now sits up in his easy-chair, and might — I
fancy — walk about and be as formerly, if it were not
amusing to him to act the convalescent, in order to see
little Elsa busied before him.
"He will have some trouble with me," she said one
day at Sorrento, during the time of uncertainty, " so
long as there is any possibility for me to make my
escape — but as his wife I should be tolerably good. I
should not make him unhappy."
She seemed now to have accepted her part, and to
consider herself as his wife ; for the capricious Princess
Elsa has all at once become transformed into the good,
affectionate, ministering little wife. It is very pretty
and touching to see her in this new character, and I
believe it to be the pleasure of this which keeps him
in his easy-chair and morning-coat a little longer than
there is any absolute necessity.
" For you must not suppose that I am always going
to be so very pious and good," she ventured to say this
very day ; " it will only last whilst you are ill ! "
" It is a very good thing to know that ! " he said.
In the meantime, a drive has been ordered for him
to-day, and we are all three going out in a carriage in
the afternoon to take the air on the beautiful Marina of
Palermo. Whilst the lovers play at husband and wife, come to

394 THE STATE OF SICILY.
a thorough understanding of the past, and, between
sport and earnest, lay plans for the future, little Elsa
has just now formed one in case Napoleon III. conquer
Piedmont, and they should become poor — which is, to
set up a little shop, and to sell, I know not what won
derful little packets ; a scheme which makes him laugh
immoderately. Whilst, therefore, they talk and laugh, I
will relate to you, my R., the various particulars that I
have heard about this wonderful island, the geni of the
Mediterranean, with Etna as its centre, the blue waves
as its setting ; with the legends of the giants, and those
pleasant pastorals — with Hercules and Ceres as divin
ities — Dion, Timoleon, and Archimedes, as heroes,
and Theocritus as poet — the island with the grand
antiquity ; and then the long middle ages, when she,
like the whole of Italy, became the prey of the strong,
who rent asunder the fallen lion, which anciently ruled
over nations. But as regards the ancient times, you
already know all about them, or may do so, from the
first Guide Book you meet with. I therefore only
relate to you that which I learned of the present state
of Sicily. It resembles a pause between two volcanic
eruptions; that which broke out in the year 1848, and
that which it is feared — or hoped may break out shortly.
In the former revolution a great number of the high
est nobility of Sicily took part ; a great many of its
priests, and the whole of its middle-class. That which
they wanted for Sicily was the same which all the
States of Italy desire : free constitutions, a new, better,
nobler life ; a better state of things in every respect.
Torrents of blood flowed, therefore, especially in
Messina, where the combat was most earnest and most
obstinate. But  the time, the people were not
ready ; the foreign friends not faithful ; the patriots
were obliged to fly, or to give themselves up as

GOVERNORS OF SICILY. 395
prisoners ; the old state of things returned; a state of
things more in accordance with the circumstances of
the middle ages than with the character of the age
which is now dawning upon the world. The over
thrown statue of the King of Naples was re-erected in
Palermo— and there it still stands, with a paternally
protecting, threatening expression. The best and
most earnest citizens of Sicily were compelled to leave
their beloved island; the others — the frivolous, the
selfish, still remained, and continued to look after their
pleasures, their gambling, and their love intrigues.
Sicily had a good governor, by name Filangieri.
He began to build bridges, to improve the roads, to
establish good means of communication, and to com
mence various useful reforms. He was soon suspected
by the King of Naples to be too much of a Sicilian,
a"d. — was removed. Another governor was appointed,
who allowed the rivers to overflow the roads, the roads
to become impassable, and who is an enemy to all
reform. He is still there, and the Sicilians silently
sigh over their inability against the superior force of
Naples. The people are of a nobler type than the
£» eapolitans, and regard themselves as of a nobler race.
'They are also more industrious and earnest, and still
greater lovers of freedom. But the want of independ
ence breeds in the cities frivolity and immorality, es
pecially in Palermo, and that amongst all classes.
Sicily is still rich and beautiful, as in ancient times,
and is still worthy to be called the gem of the Medi
terranean. In better, purer hands, it might perhaps
deserve to be called the joy of humanity. Where is
the spot of earth in which the grand and the pleasing
are so united? At the feet of Etna are the river
Cyane, the fountain Anapos, and the enchanting
fields, where, according to the legend, Prosperine

396 BEAUTIFUL PALERMO.
danced with her companions ; and upon this soil,
where the Titans strove to conquer Olympus, exist to
this day the legend and songs of the idyls in primaeval
purity and innocence. Formerly it was Theocritus, in
our days it is the Sicilian poet, Giovanni Melli, who
sings the life of nature and man in their simplest,
most inner relationship, with an inspiration as from the
original source, and in a language which is perfect
music. And what shall I say about Palermo, the city of
Santa Rosalia, in its conca d'oro, or golden shell, as the
fertile valley is called in which it stands, like an ori
ental princess, dazzling and wonderful? It is said that
she is a great sinner ; that there are few cities in which
so many murders annually occur, and no city has a
higher social life, or more agreeable, but at the same
time frivolous, gossiping, censorious, addicted to
gambling and all kinds of selfish enjoyment. That
which I know is that she is unusual and beautiful, that
her palaces and churches, with their oriental, Saracenic,
Normanic, character and ornaments, captivate and
delight my eyes, as they rise, encircled by the deep
blue sea, and by the dark green woods, with their
golden fruit, and that all this shines through the day
in the splendour of the sun, and in the evenings in the
light of the moon, with a dazzling, enchanting splen
dour, and that the air on its shores is so pure, so
delicious, that the air of Naples seems, by comparison,
to be that of a sewer.
It was in Palermo that the poetical art of Italy first
found expression and beautiful form, through the ear
liest poetess of Italy, La Nina Siciliana, who, at the
Court of Frederick Barbarossa, sung of pure and noble
love in the most graceful sonnets, and obtained thereby
a love which made her life happy. The celebrated

SANTA ROSALIA. 397
songstress of Sicily was after this known only as La
Nina di Dante* It was in Palermo that Rosalia, the
daughter of William the Good, abandoned, in the flower
of her youth and beauty, a court full of delights to live
in a desolate cave, solely for prayer and intercourse
with heaven ; and there was lost to human sight and
knowledge, until, after many hundred years, a vision of
some shepherds led to the discovery of her bones,
which — so says tradition — carried in procession through
Palermo, saved the city from a desolating pestilence.
It was in rain and mist that we ascended to Monte
Pellegrino and the cave of Santa Rosalia. This, there
fore, might perhaps be the cause that her recumbent
figure, in that singularly-formed grotto, the peculiar
light there, and the tranquillity, whilst the rain was
pouring without, produced upon us such an agreeable
impression. The young girl is represented in the
position in which, according to tradition, her body was
found lying on the altar of the grotto. The clothing
is of massive gold, and the countenance of white marble
has an indescribable expression of innocence, goodness,
and ecstatic joy, whilst she seems to be listening to
heavenly music, audible alone to herself. She holds
her hand behind her ear listening, and her rich hair
falls upon her arm. Lamps are kept burning around
the lovely figure, and cast upon it a soft .radiance,
lighting up the lofty arch of the grotto and its won
derful forms. Some hunters and shepherds — wild
figures — came into the grotto whilst we were there,
and reverently knelt beside the image of Santa Rosa
lia. I am glad that I have seen it. A life of prayer
* Dante da Majano — not, the great Dante — who made his ap
pearance at the same time with the Sicilian poetess, and by his
powerful pen formed or established the Italian language. — Au
thor's note.

398 A DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE LOVERS.
without work is no longer, and ought not to be, the
ideal of a life of piety ; but the image of Santa Rosa
lia breathes forth a peace and a joy, which, once seen
or felt, leave behind a light in the soul, like the assur
ance of an inner life, an inner joy, which the storms
and mists of life cannot reach. An abundant spring of
the freshest water bubbles up in the grotto of Santa
Rosalia, has there its spring, and supplies the people
throughout the whole neighbourhood with an invaluable
refreshment. Peace be with thee, beautiful Rosalia !
May thy innocent renown long diffuse a glory over
thy native city, and thy beautiful image, thy heavenly
expression, attract some of thy sisters to a bent of mind
like thine own !
November 2nd. — I take gray paper to-day, on which to
write of rain, and dullness, and  ; for now for five
days Palermo has drawn around itself a rainy and
misty mantle, which makes her golden shell resemble
rather a conco d'acqua than a conco d'oro, and gloomy
countenances show themselves even before the peace
and joy of a certain marriage. Judge of this for your
self, my R.
I went into the room where the lovers were sitting,
in order to impart to them a little of my wisdom of life,
and to derive from them a little inner sunshine — for
Hercules is now once more Hercules — when I hap
pened to hear the following conversation : —
He. — " But I tell you what — if you persist in making
my day gloomy with your black imps, I shall take my
hat and make my departure."
She. — " Very good ! And whilst you are gone, I
shall pack up all my clothes, and such of your books as
most take my fancy, and — that little Cupid of Sevres
china, pack them all up together, and set off with them
by railway."

BADINAGE. 399
He.—" You are in a state to do that ! You deserve,
indeed, that I should lock you up in a hunger-tower
till you become tractable ! "
She.—" Try to do so."
He.— " Try to do so ! Do you defy me ? "
She.— "Yes."
He. — " You look like it. You think, perhaps, that
your good friends the witches of the Blocksberg would
come and help you out ? Or perhaps you are enough
of a little witch yourself to escape by the chimney ?
Eh?" She. — "That may be, if you are my jailor. No,
that would not do, I can tell you ! If I turn very bad
then you can get into a rage, a downright rage, once or
twice in a year, but at the same time, and between
whiles, you must be very good, very amiable. I must
educate yon, you see, poor Hercules ! "
He. — "Educate me? Ha, ha, ha! Upon my honour !
I thought it was I who was to educate you — and that — "
She — " That is a great mistake. You are not so
good as you fancy. You are a tyrant, and only desire
to rule yourself, and that I must break you of."
He. — " Very pretty ! But now if your scheme
should succeed, and I should become as good and as
amiable as you wish, how will you be ? When I am
an old man and you are still a young woman, and I
wish to sit quietly at home in an evening, then, what
will my little wife do with herself? "
She. — "I ? I shall draw your chair a little nearer to
the fire, and then shall order a little nice soup to be
made for you, and then — put on your nightcap, and
then — I shall drive to the theatre ! "
He. — " Nay, only hear the little monster ! You are
really too bad to escape without punishment ; and, as
the first degree of penance, you shall have — "

400 TRUE IDEAL OF MARRIED LIFE.
I entered just in time to interrupt the awarded pe
nance, and to hear the complaints of both sides. I
said that they were both in fault, and both deserved
to do penance, therefore I now sentenced them to
hear some passages from Xenophon's " Ekonomia,"
that they might reflect upon the ideal of a happy mar
riage according to the views of classical antiquity.
The conversation between the husband and wife, in
the dialogue of the learned Greek, begins with the
charming inquiry, " My wife, do you know why I mar
ried you ? " and ends with thi3 ideal of wedded life :
" That you might attend to my house, and look after
my servants, so that I may be able, quite free from
anxiety, to spend the day at the Forum ; if you endea
vour in everything to please me, and make me comfort
able in my house, then I shall be there, your most obe
dient slave ! "
All this was very amusing and edifying to the lovers.
The Waldensian had, it is true, quite another ideal of
wedded life, one in which two souls unite themselves to
strengthen and gladden each other, during the mutual
endeavour to carry out the loving plan of a mutual
Father ; and of this he spoke later in the day, whilst
little Elsa's head rested on his shoulder, and her eyes
beamed a joyful Amen to the picture of the future
which he sketched out for their life.
I have a great deal to thank Italy for : its heaven
has given me much, but nothing more beautiful, more
precious and dear to me, than the sight of an affection
without selfishness ; the drama of two richly-gifted
souls, in which I have taken and still take a part, as a
mother and a friend. This drama will soon commence
a new act, and then I shall be no longer with them. In
the meantime the lovers will accompany me to Catanea
and Etna. I long to become acquainted with Etna, as

THE CHURCH AND CONVENT OF MONTREAL. 401
one longs to make the acquaintance of a great cha
racter. We intended to have driven thither from Gir-
genti, but we were not able to reach that place on
account of the swollen state of the rivers, which had
overflowed the roads, so as to render them dangerous in
many places.
We go, therefore, by way of Messina, and shall
afterwards return thither when we separate — they to
proceed northward, and I to the south.
November 9th. — The sun shines again after many
days' rain, and Palermo beams forth again by its blue
sea and its fertile valley of olive, lemon, and orange
groves, making an atmosphere fragrant which it is life
and health to inhale. We have visited Montreal, a
glorious morning drive, with such views from the rest
ing-places and the marble fountains, and such perfume
from the blossoming groves ! The church and convent
of Montreal are noble monuments of the age when the
new life gave inspiration to architecture, which devoted
its best powers to the service of the Church, that by
symbolic imagery it might express and perpetuate for
thousands of generations the thoughts of eternal life.
It erected here grand airy arches for the emancipated
spirit, and it has ornamented every portion of the
building with the loveliest symbols of life. Every
pillar possesses individuality, every ornament signifi
cance and language. The whole history of creation is
exhibited in pictures on a gold ground— childish in
conception, laughable in execution, but in which the
eyes, the glances, often beam with wonderful power.
So, in particular, in the head of Christ, in the great
fresco-painting on the roof of the choir. And this
glance, this expression of the spirit, I have often ob
served in many paintings here. It occurs to. me that it
VOL. II. DD

402 THE STREET-POPULATION OF PALERMO.
lies latent in the people, whose expression of earnest
ness and mildness strikes one very agreeably after the
street population of Naples. At Palermo one sees the
churches full of devout people, though the devotion
may be somewhat sleepy — but can it be otherwise
during a spiritless form of worship ?
The male population, almost the only one you see in
the streets, appears for the rest to have a particular en
joyment in doing nothing. You see them sitting in
long rows, or hanging to the stone benches, of which
there are so many in the squares and along the Marina,
talking leisurely or saying nothing. You often see on
the Marina a crowd of two or three hundred sitting as
in a little theatre round an improvisatore, or story
teller, who relates, with animated gestures, some legend
or historical romance, to which they listen attentively
and silently. Guitar-players or shepherds with the
Zampogna — the bag-pipe, which is now heard every day
in Palermo, as at this time in Rome — are always sure
of collecting a little audience around them, but whether
from unoccupation or from their love of music, I know
not. Frequently, also, you see a throng gathered
round a man with the Tombola, or some other game of
chance, for gambling is a chief enjoyment of both great
and small at Palermo.
We have visited many private palaces in Palermo,
as well as the celebrated pleasure castles and villas, La
Favorita, La Grazia, La Bagaria, and many others.
There are no works of art of a high character there,
but great splendour in mosaics and other ornaments,
also a good deal that is very peculiar and curious.
The villas of Palermo and their natural beauty, the
views of the bay, of the mountains, and the parks,
have reminded me of the dreams of my childhood
about fairy castles and gardens. From the greater

THE TRULY NOBLE ITALIAN. 403
number of these villas, however, the inhabitants have
fled to other countries, or to the other world. Life,
the creative and the powerful, flows now in other
directions. Palermo is bright as yet with the past —
is, whilst it glances onward, awaiting for a new, an ap
proaching life.
The want of unity and independent power has
made the people of Sicily, for centuries, a ball to be
played with by foreign powers — has made them depen
dent on foreign rulers, whom they obey without loving —
and it has made them what they are at the present
time. But is that to last always ? Will it never become
dependent upon its better self alone — become a people
as independent and noble as its land is rich and beau
tiful! And now, farewell for this time, beautiful Palermo,
thou Princess, thou rose amongst the cities of southern
Italy — spite of thy rainy days, thou art to me, in thy
conco d'oro, as a golden memory of splendour and colour
unlike any other city of earth.
Yet, who does not praise the beauty of Italy, in her
scenery, her cities, and her art ? — but the people of Italy,
who praises them ? How usual it is for foreigners to
speak of them with mistrustful reservation ! And yet
it seems to me that there has been quite too small a
recognition of their peculiar goodness and excellence.
Some one — I do not remember whom — has remarked
that when the Italian is kind and good, he is so in a
higher and more perfect degree than the man of any
other nation. And as with the grape, which at a cer
tain period of its ripeness is said to be nobly ripe — edel
reif'ia the expression on the Rhine — so may it be said
of the human being of Italian blood, fully matured to
goodness, he or she is then " nobly matured." To strict
conscientiousness, noble-mindedness, earnestness, all
DD 2

404 THE WEALTH OF ITALY FOR HUMANITY. ,
the virtues which adorn humanity, must then be added,
refinement, beauty, a nameless grace, which is more
easily felt than described, and which is like the flower
and the perfume of the Italian individuality. I have
seen and experienced this amongst the Italian men, es
pecially of the learned class — not the clergy — in all the
states of Italy where I have as yet been. Social life,
feelings, thoughts, receive thence, as it were, a higher,
clearer colouring, a deeper harmony. But when that
which now is peculiar to the few becomes peculiar to
the many, because this beautiful individuality is in the
depth of the Italian popular character — when religion
and the constitution of the States, popular life and do
mestic life, folk's festivals like those of Switzerland,
homes such as my Swiss home by the living waters —
unite to liberate this peculiar yet fettered national
beauty, then will Italy assuredly become that which
one of its noblest sons prophetically beheld many cen
turies back, " Common soil, daughter and mother of all
lands alike, elect of the gods, to make heaven more
beautiful, to collect scattered mankind, to soften the
manners, to make a brotherhood of nations separated
by barbarous tongues, to give to all a human sociality
and amiability, and to become a common father-land
to all the nations of the earth." *
But He who gave to the people the ability to supply
each other's wants, who called all to become members
of one great family, voices in one great harmony ; — who
gave to one and all of us, small human beings, his part
and his vocation in the common work; — who gave
us in it, infinite treasure to husband for ourselves and
for others, for all, for the hour and for eternity; — who
gave us to enjoy the dewdrop and the sun, the little
bickering and the kiss of love and fidelity unto death ; —
* Pliny — Hist., cap. 3, 5.

FAREWELL. 405
let us labour for Him and rest in Him. Him let us praise,
and let us pray Him that His kingdom may come !
And now, farewell, my R.

NOTE.
Pompeii seems to have been at the height of its
prosperity when, in the year 63 A.D., a great portion of
the most beautiful buildings of the city were over
thrown by an earthquake, which also visited several
other cities in the neighbourhood. The terrified
inhabitants fled, but afterwards returned, took heart,
and re-erected, still more beautifully and more taste
fully, the buildings which had been destroyed,
especially the Forum and Amphitheatre. In the year
79, however, another eruption of Vesuvius occurred,
accompanied by a deluge of ashes and pumice-stones,
which entirely buried Pompeii, Stabias, Oplontum,
Retina, Herculaneum, and many other cities. The
eruption lasted for three days. Pliny the younger has
given, in a letter to Tacitus, an account of this terrible
occurrence, from which I select the following
passages : —
" My uncle, " he says, " was then stationed at
Misenum, where he had command of the Roman fleet.
The eruption occurred on the 24th of August ; and at
about one o'clock in the afternoon his mother called the
attention of his uncle to a cloud of extraordinary size
and form which appeared in the air." On this he says
that his uncle went to a place where he could obtain

DESTRUCTION OF POMPEII. 407
a better view. " But it was difficult to ascertain at that
distance from what mountain the cloud proceeded.
"Afterwards it was found to be from Vesuvius. Its
form resembled that of a tree, but rather that of a pine-
tree than any other ; for it shot up a great height, in
the form of a trunk, extending above like branches,
occasioned, I imagine, either by a sudden gust of air
which impelled it, and the force of which decreased as
it advanced upward ; or the cloud, being pressed down
again by its own weight, expanded in this manner.
It appeared sometimes white, and sometimes dark and
spotted, as it became more or less impregnated with
earth and cinders. This extraordinary phenomenon
excited my uncle's philosophical curiosity to take a
nearer view." He then describes his uncle's embarka
tion in one of his light vessels, he having given his
nephew permission to accompany him if he liked ; but
he preferred remaining behind at his studies, his uncle
having by chance given him some writing to do. "He
therefore left his house, taking his note-book with him.
The sea-officers at Retina, alarmed at the impending
danger, prayed him to save them from a great calamity,
for there was no other escape for them but by sea. He
would not, however, alter his resolution, but pursued
with the utmost courage what he had commenced
from curiosity. Pie ordered out the vessels, therefore,
and went on board with the design, not merely of
giving succour to Retina, but to many other places ; for
the coast being delightful was thronged with villages.
He proceeded with expedition thither, from where all
the world was retiring, and made a direct course to the
point of danger, remaining so fearless as to observe and
note down all the motions and forms of the phenomena.
The ashes already fell amongst the vessels, warmer and
thicker the nearer they approached; then pumice-

408 DESTRUCTION OF POMPEII.
stones arid others burned to a coal, and broken with the
fire. They were also in danger from the sudden retreat
of the sea, which rendered the shore inaccessible, and
from the vast fragments which rolled down the moun
tain and blocked up the shore. After considering
awhile whether he should return, he said to the pilot
who advised this step, ' Fortune assists the bold ! Tack
about towards Pomponianus ! ' Pomponianus was
then at Stabise, separated from him only by a little bay
formed by the windings of the shore. In this quarter,
though the danger was distant, still it was in full view ;
and when it seemed approaching Pomponianus had his
goods taken on board some vessels, and resolved to go off
with them when the wind changed. My uncle, carried
thither by a favouring gale, and finding him in great
terror, embraced and encouraged him, and, in order to
allay his fears by his own calmness of mind, asked to be
shewn to the bath. After bathing he sat down to
supper cheerfully, at least with the appearance of his
ordinary cheerfulness. In the meantime large and
high eruptions of fire glared from Vesuvius in several
places, the brightness of which was heightened by the
gloom of night. My uncle, to calm their fears, told
them that what they saw burning were only villages
abandoned by the peasants, and which had thus become
the prey of the flames. He then lay down to rest, and
slept very soundly; and as he was a large and stout
man the sound of his snoring was pretty audible, as far
as the antichamber. But the court, that led to his
apartment was now so choked up with ashes and
pumice-stones, that, had he stayed longer in his room,
the passage from it would have been entirely obstructed.
As soon as he was awakened he went out and joined
Pomponianus and the rest, who had sat up all night.
They debated together whether they should stay in the

DESTRUCTION OF POMPEII. 409
house or walk in the open field ; for the buildings were
violently shaken by repeated earthquakes, and seemed
to rock from side to side, as if shaken to the foundation.
Abroad the fall of the pumice-stones, though light and
porous, alarmed them. Between the two dangers they
chose that of the field. They went out, therefore, and
to guard themselves from the fall of the stones bound
each a pillow upon his head with handkerchiefs or
napkins. It was now day in other places, but here it
was still night, more black and dismal than ever was
known before, which, however, was a little illuminated
by multitudes of lights and flambeaux. They thought
it best to advance to the shore, to see what chance
there was for them there ; but the sea was very stormy,
and the wind contrary. My uncle, then lying down
upon a sheet which was spread for him, asked for water
once or twice, which he drank. Soon afterwards the
flames and a stench of sulphur, a forerunner of the fumes,
dispersed the company and roused him. He rose, sup
ported by two servants, and in a moment fell and
expired. The cause, I suppose, being that the dense
smoky air suffocated him, all the more easily as he had
a weak chest and suffered from shortness of breath.
"On the return of light, three days afterwards, the
body was found entire, in the dress in which he died.
"The appearance of the body was that of sleep rather
than death. In the meantime my mother and I were
at Misenum."
In a second letter Pliny relates what occurred to
himself : —
" After my uncle had taken his leave," he says, " I
employed myself in study, for which purpose I re
mained behind. I took a bath, supped, and went to
bed, but slept very uneasily. We had been for several
days sensible of an earthquake, which did not, however,

410 DESTRUCTION OF POMPEII.
greatly disturb us, because they are frequent in the
town and villages of Campania, but this night they
were redoubled with such violence that one might say
things were not merely shaken, but seemed to be over
turned by it. My mother came hastily into my cham
ber, at the moment when T, too, had arisen with the
intention of awaking her had she slept. We took a
seat in the court that separates the chief building from
the sea by a short interval. ... It was now seven
o'clock in the morning, but still there was very little
light, like a dim twilight. The houses around us were
shaken, so that the terror of their fall was great and
certain, the place being small; we resolved, therefore,
to quit the town The people followed us in consterna
tion, and, as a mind distracted with terror regards any
suggestion more prudent than its own, they pressed in
great crowds upon us in our way out. When we were
clear of the town we stopped, but here new terrors
met us. The carriages which we had ordered out were
so agitated backwards and forwards, though upon level
ground, that they could not be steadied, even by large
stones. The sea appeared rolled back of itself from the
shore, and numbers of fishes were left on the beach.
On the other side a black, and dreadful cloud, rent by
a fiery vapour, which darted forth like igneous serpents,
burst forth into flames, resembling lightning, but much
vaster. . . . Soon after that the cloud descended to
the earth and covered the sea, hiding the island of
Capri and the promontory of Misenum. My mother
then besought, urged, commanded me to save myself by
any means whatever — she showed me that it was easy- at
my age, but that to be encumbered with years and corpu
lency the attempt was impossible — that she could willingly
meet death if she did not become the means of my death
also. But I refused to leave her, and, taking her hand

DESTRUCTION OF POMPEII. 411
in mine, forced her to come along with me. She com
plied unwillingly, and not without many reproaches for
being the cause of my detention. The ashes began to
fall upon us, but in small quantities : I looked round,
and saw a thick smoke rolling after us like a flood.
On this I said to my mother, let us, whilst we can yet
see, turn out of the high road, lest we should be pressed
to death in the dark by the crowd which followed us.
Scarcely had we removed ourselves before the darkness
increased to such a degrree that it was not like a night
without a moon, but a closed room in which all the
lights are put out. Nothing was to be heard but the
lamentation of the women, the cries of the children,
and the shouting of the men ; some called aloud for
their parents ; some for their husbands, knowing them
only by their voices ; some bewailed their own mis
fortunes, others those of their neighbours ; some wished
to die from the very fear of death ; many called upon
the gods ; others, disbelieving in the gods, thought
that the last eternal night was come in which the
world was to be destroyed. Others again increased
the real by imaginary dangers, and made the terri
fied multitude to believe that Misenum had fallen, or
was in flames. At length a glimpse of light appeared,
which we imagined to be rather an approaching burst
of fire, as in truth it was, than the return of day. The
fire, however, stopped short of us, and again we were
immersed in thick darkness, and a plentiful shower of
ashes and cinders fell, which we were obliged every
now and then to shake off, or we should have been
buried in the heap. At length this pitchy darkness
was gradually dispersed, day appeared in reality, and
with it the sun, though shining but feebly, and as if at
the approach of an eclipse. Everything looked
changed to our uncertain sight, and we beheld nothing

412 DESTRUCTION OF POMPEII.
which was not covered with ashes, as with snow. On*
our return to Misenum, where we all refreshed ourselves
as well as we could, we passed a night between fear
and hope, though indeed fear had the preponderance,
as the earthquake continued."
Titus came to the aid of the unfortunate cities, or
rather inhabitants ; saved all who could be saved, and
gave help and encouragement, even personal, to all the
sufferers. A part of the towns were rebuilt ; but others
were abandoned altogether, everything being removed
from them of value : Pompeii was left in its grave of
ashes for eighteen hundred centuries. It was in the
year 1748, when a peasant, sinking a well in a vine
yard at Sarno, first discovered traces of the forgotten
city. Carlo Borbone, King of Naples, under the name
of Carlo III., became possessor of the ground, and
commenced the excavations with great assiduity ; and
Pompeii, with its temples and fountains, its columns, its
frescoes, and public and private buildings — the image of
the life of classical antiquity — was laid open to the day,
as we see it at the present time.

THE END.

K. BORN, P1SIHTEK, GLOUCESTEU ST11EET, REGENT'S PARK.

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Author of " Oriental and Western Siberia." Dedicated, by per
mission, to Her Majesty. Royal 8vo.f with Map and 83 Illus
trations. £2 2s., elegantly bound.
"Our readers have not now to learn for the first time the quality of Mr. Atkinson
as an explorer and a writer. The comments we made on, and the extracts we selected
from, his 'Oriental and Western Siberia,' will have sufficed to show that in the former
character he takes rank with the m^st daring of the class, and that in the latter he is
scarcely to be surpassed for the lucidity, picturesqueness, and power, with which he
pourtrays the scenes through which he has travelled, and the perils or the pleasures
which encountered him on the way. The present volume is not inferior to its prede
cessor. It takes us through localities, some of which are little, others not at all, known
to even the best read men in the literature of travel. The entire volume U admirable
for its spirit, unexaggerated tone, and the mass of fresh materials by which this really
new world is made accessible to us. The followers, too, of all the 'ologies' will meet
with something in these graphic pages of peculiar interest to them. It is a noble
work." — Alhenceum.
MEMORIALS OF ADMIRAL LORD GAMBIER,
6.C.B., with Original Letters from Lords CHATHAM, NELSON,
CASTLEREAGH, MULGRAVE, HOLLAND, Mr. CANNING,
&c. Edited, from Family Papers, by Lady Chatterton. Second
Edition. 2 toIs., 8vo., 28s.
STUDIES FROM LIFE. By the Author of "John
Halifax, Gentleman," &c. 1 vol., 10s. 6d. bound.
A BOOK ABOUT DOCTORS. By J. C. Jeaf-
freson, Author of "Novels and Novelists," &c. 2 vols., with
Plates, 21s.
"A pleasant book for the fireside season on which we are entering, and for the sea
side season that is to come. Since Mr. Wadd's details of his own experiences in the
first of his popular works, there has not been so agreeable a book about doctors pub
lished as the one before us. Mr. Wadd, it will be remembered, chatted chiefly of Ms
own experiences. Mr. Jeaffreson takes a far wider range. He has been into the
medical garden, and gathei ed two ai-msfnl of herbs, and plants, and flowers, and every
thing connected therewith, and these he has classified and arranged ; and out of hun
dreds of volumes collected thousands of good tilings, adding much that appears in
print for the first time, and which of course gives increased value to this very readable
book." — A thenceum.
DOMESTIC MEMOIRS OF THE ROYAL FA
MILY, AND OF THE COURT OF ENGLAND, CHIEFLY
AT SHENE AND RICHMOND. By Folkestone Williams,
F.R.G.S., F.G.S., &c. 3 vols., with Portraits, 31s. 6d.
"An inte-esting, pleasant, and instructive book, abundant in anecdote, and agree
ably gossipping. It evinces considerable research, and a generally sound historical
JU"^°wo7kPbelOTigs to the best class of popular antiquarian books, because it is
popular hy reason of the entertaining character and the variety of its trustworthy in
formation." — Examiner.

13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
MESSRS. HURST AND BLACKETT'S
NEW WORKS.— CONTINUED.

MEMOIRS OF THE COURT OF GEORGE IV.
From Original Family Documents. By the Duke op Bucking
ham and Chandos, K.G. 2 vols. 8vo., with Portraits, 30s.
"The country is much indebted to the Duke of Buckingham for the publication of
these volumes — to our thinking the most valuable of tne contributions to recent his
tory which he has yet compiled from his family papers." — John Bull.
TWO YEARS IN SWITZERLAND AND ITALY". '
By Ebedrika Bremer. Translated by Mart Howitt. 2 vols.
NARRATIVE OF A RESIDENCE AT THE
COURT OF MEER ALI MOORA.D ; with "Wild Sports in
the Valley oe the Indus. By Capt. Langley, late Madras
Cavalry. 2 vols., 8vo., with Illustrations, 30s.
"A valuable work, containing much useful information." — Literary Gazette.
"Captain Langley's interesting volumes will doubtless attract all the attention they
deserve on account of their political and commercial importance; and hs they are full
of incident connected with the sports of Briti-h India, th^y will be as agreeable to the
sportsman and general reader as to the politician.'' — Messenger.
HISTORY OF THE REIGN OF HENRY IV.,
KING OF FRANCE AND NAVARRE. By Miss Freer,
Author of The Lives of Marguerite D'Angouleme, Elizabeth de
Valois, Henry III., &c. 2 vols., with Portraits, 21s.
"We know no works of this kind, with the exception, perhaps, of Macaulay's
History, which are more pleasant reading than the histories of Miss Freer. The
charm of the style and manner and the accuracy of the details combine to render lier
works a valuable addition to our literary treasures." — John, Bull.
TRAITS OF CHARACTER; BEING TWENTY-
five YEARS' LITERARY AND PERSONAL RECOLLEC
TIONS. By a Contemporary. 2 vols., 21s.
Contents : — Lord Melbourne — L. E. Landon — The Earl of Carnarvon — The Duke of
Wellington— Edward Irving — Mrs. Shelley -Thomas Campbell — Robert Liston -Wil
liam Lawrence — Thomas Moore — Dr. Kitchener — Edmund Kean — Mr Justice Crowder
— The Rev. J. M. Bellew — The Rev. F. W. Robertson — Lord Macaulay — Lady Blessing-
ton — The Rev. C. H. Spurgeon — Sheridan Knowles — Tyrone Power — Viscount Dillon
— Thomas Pringle — A. J. Valpy — The Hon. Mrs. Norton.
"We feel assured that these ' Traits of Character' wll meet with a large and ad
miring circle of readers. We have rarely risen from the perusal of any work which
has more intei'ested us. It possesses so much genuine interest, so much to please and
even to instruct, that we part from it with reluctance." — Lancet.
A SUMMER RAMBLE IN THE HIMALAYAS;
with Sporting Adventures in the Vale of Cashmere. Edited by
" Mountaineer." 15s.
"This volume is altogether a pleasant one. It is written with zest, and edited with
care. The incidents and adventures of the journey are most fascinating to a sports
man and very interesting to a traveller."— Athenaeum.
A CRUISE IN THE PACIFIC. From the Log
of a Naval Officer. Edited by Capt. Aylmer. 2 vols., 21s.
"A highly interesting work, written in the spirit of a genuine sailor." — Lit. Gazette*
2

13, GREAT MARLBOKOCGH STREET.
MESSRS. HURST AND BLAOKETT'S
NEW WORKS.— CONTINUED.
THE ENGLISHWOMAN IN ITALY: Impkes-
sions op Life in the Roman States and Sardinia during a
Ten Years' Residence. By Mrs. G. Gretton. 2 vols., 21s.
" Mrs. Gretton had opportunities which rarely fall to the lot of strangers, of becoming
acquainted with the inner life and habits of a part of the Italian Peninsula which ts
now the very centre of the natonal crisis. We can praise her performance as inter
esting, unexaggerated, and full of opportune instruction." — Times.
THE LIFE AND TIMES op GEORGE VILLIERS,
DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. From original and authentic
sources. By Mrs. Thomson. 3 vols., Portrait, 31s. 6d.
"These volumes will increase the well-earned reputation of their clever and popular
author." — Examiner.
TRAVELS IN EASTERN AFRICA, with the
Narrative of a Residence in Mozambique. By Lyons M'Leod,
Esq., F.R.G.S., late British Consul in Mozambique. 2 vols. With
Map and Illustrations. 21s.
"Mr. M'Leod's volumes contain chapters for all readers — racy narrative, abundance
of incident, compendious history, important matter of fact statistics, and many a page
which will be perused by the naturalist." — Athtnatum.
SIX MONTHS IN REUNION; A Clergyman's
Holiday, and How he Passed It. By the Kev. P. Beaton, M.A.
2 vols., 21s.
LADY CHARLOTTE PEPYS' JOURNEY ON
A PLANK FROM KIEV TO EAUX-BONNES. 2 vols., 21s.
LORD WILLIAM LENNOX'S PICTURES OF
SPORTING LIFE AMD CHARACTER. 2 vols., 21s.
ALSO, IN THE PRESS.
MEMOIRS OF THE COURTS AND CABINETS
OF WILLIAM IV. AND VICTORIA. From Original Family
Documents. By the Duke of Buckingham, K.G. 2 vols., 8vo.,
with Portraits.
BRITISH ARTISTS, FROM HOGARTH TO
TURNER Being a Series of Biographical Sketches. By Walter
Thornbcry. 2 vols., 2 Is.
SIX YEARS OF A TRAVELLER'S LIFE IN
WESTERN AFRICA. By Francesco Valdez. 2 vols., with
Map and Illustrations.
THE ENGLISH SPORTSMAN IN THE WEST
ERN PRAIRIES. By the Hon. Gbantley Berkeley. Royal
8vo., with Illustrations.
KATHERINE AND HER SISTERS. By Lady
Emily Ponsoney, Author of " The Discipline of Life," &c. 3 v.
A SAUNTER THROUGH THE WEST END.
By Leigh Hubt, 1 vol. 3

THE NEW AND POPULAE NOVELS.
To be had at all the Libraries.

THE HOUSE ON THE MOOR. By the Author
of " Margaret Maitland," &c. 3 vols.
THE VALLEY OF A HUNDRED FIRES. By
the Author of "Margaret and her Bridesmaids," &c. 3 vols.
" * The Valley of a Hundred Fires ' will be one of the most widely read books of the
season. In it are to be found some of the pleasantest characters we know of in fiction.
The Rev. Mr. Leslie himself is excellent. It is impossible not to love his mixture of
the human and the humorous. He is a happy combination of Mr. Longfellow's ' Ka-
vanagh ' and Mr. Bennett in ' Pride and Prejudice,' with jnst a dash of 'The Vicar of
Wakefield.' The Bernards are capital, and also the Dawsons, and beyond all praise
are the old twin -brothers, the Sabines. Not only is the drawing of good or quaint
characters conspicuous in 'The Valley of a Hundred Fires* — the flashes of essay and
descriptive writing are fall of poetry and philosophy." — Literary Gazette.
HIGH PLACES. By G. T. Lowth, Esq. Author
of " The "Wanderer in Arabia." 3 v.
MONEY. By Colin Kennaquhom, Esq, 3 vols.
"We welcome with much satisfaction a new and valuable accession to the ranks of
the fiction writers in the person of Mr. Colin Kennaquhom, author of the clever novel
'Money.' His language is lifelike in dialogue, fresh, clear, and decisive in narrative
and reflection, and his book can hardly fail to amuse all readers." — Spectator.
BOND AND FREE. By the Author of " Caste." 3 v.
"A clever and interesting novel It has great power." — Literary Gazette.
CARSTONE RECTORY. By George Gkaham.
"This story is a natural one, and its sketches of character are real" — Examiner.
THE WORLD'S VERDICT. By the Author of
"The Morals of May-Fair," "Creeds," &c. 3 vols. Just ready.
MAGDALEN HAVERING. By the Author of
"The Verneys." 3 vols. Just ready.
DAUNTON MANOR HOUSE. 2 vols.
HIGH CHURCH. 2 vols.
MAINSTONE'S HOUSEKEEPER. By "Silver-
PEN." 3 VOls.
GRANDMOTHER'S MONEY. By the Author of
" Wildflower," " One and Twenty," &c. 3 vols.
" A good novel. The most interesting of the Author's productions."— Athaueum.
THE ROAD TO HONOUR. 3 vols.
NIGHT AND DAY. By the Hon. C. S. Savile.
ONLY A WOMAN. By Capt. Wraxall, 3 vols.
THE CURATES OF RIVERSDALE : Recol-
lections in the Life of a Clergyman. 3 vols.
HURST & BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
4

NOW IN CODESE OP PDBLICATIONy
HURST AND BLACKETT'S STANDARD LIBRARY
OF CHEAP EDITIONS OF
POPULAR MODERN WORKS.
Each in a single volume, elegantly printed, bound, and illustrated, price 5s.
A volume to appear every two months. The following are now ready.

VOL. I.— SAM SLICK'S NATURE AND HUMAN NATURE
ILLUSTRATED BT LEECH
Mossrs Hurst and Blackett have very fitly inaugurated their Standard Library of
Popular Modern Works with this admirable volume. With regard to this we can truly
say :— Who can tire of the genuine sallies, the deep wisdom wrapped up in merry guise,
and the side-splitting outbursts of genuine wit, iu the pages of HaliburtonP 'Nature
and Human Nature' is particularly full of all these qualities ; and to those who love a
good laugh, when they can enjoy it accompanied by good matter for reflection, and who
have not yet read this production of Sam Slick, we can heartily recommend this elegant
Edition."— Critic. ^
" The first volume of Messrs Hurst and Blackett's Standard Library of Cheap Editions
forms a very good beginning to what will doubtless be a very successful undertaking.
Nature and Human Nature' is one of the best of Sam Slick's witty and humorous
productions, and well entitled to the large circulation which it cannot fail to obtain in
its present convenient and cheap shape. The volume combines with the great recom
mendations of a clear, bold type, and good paper, the lesser, but attractive merits, of
bemg well illustrated and elegantly bound."— Post.
" This new and cheap edition of Sam Slick's popular work will be an acquisition to all
lovers of wit and humour. Mr Justice Haliburton's writings are so well known that no
commendation is needed. The volume is very handsomely bound and illustrated, and the
paper and type are excellent. It is in every way suited for a library edition, and as tlio
names of Messrs Hurst and Blackett warrant the character of the works to be produced in
their Standard Library, we have no doubt the project will be eminently successful." — Sun .

VOL. IL— JOHN HALIFAX, GENTLEMAN.
"This is a very good and a very interesting work. It is designed to trace the career
from boyhood to age of a perfect man — a Christian gentleman, and it abounds in incident
both well and highly wrought. Throughout it is conceived in a high spirit, and written
with great ability. This cheap and handsome new edition is worthy to pass freely from
hand to hand as a gift book in many households." — Examiner.
"The new and cheaper edition of this interesting work will doubtless meet with great
success. John Halifax, the hero of this most beautiful story, is no ordinary hero, and
this his history is no ordinary book. It is a full-length portrait of a true gentleman, one
of nature's own nobility. It is also the history of a home, and a thoroughly English one.
The work abounds in incident, and many of the scenes are full of graphic power and true
pathos. It is a book that few will read without becoming wiser and better. — Scotsman.
" ' John Halifax' is more than worthy of the author's reputation. "We consider, in
deed, that it is her best work. There are in it many passages of beautiful writing.
The closing scenes are deeply pathetic, and few will lay down the book without tearful
eyes. ' John Halifax ' is a picture, drawn with a masterly hand, of one of nature's
gentlemen. Everybody who ever reads a novel should read this one."— Critic.
"The story is very interesting. The attachment between John Halifax and his wife
is beautifully painted, as are the pictures of their domestic life, and the growing up of
their children, and the conclusion of the book is beautiful and touching." — Athenamm.
"John Halifax is one of the noblest stories among modern works of fiction. The
interest of the story is enthralling, the characters admirably sustained, and the moral
excellent."— Press.
"In 'John Halifax* every character is consistently conceived and very truthfully
delineated' The incidents, the scenes, the ' still life/ are painted with a power that?
sustains the attention of the reader." — Spectator.
" If the delineation of the grand in character, the glorious in action, the tender in1
feeling, the pure in heart, can bestow eminence on a production, this work must take
its place among the standard and the excellent."— Sun.
[COKTINTTED OTS THE FOLLOWING PAGES.]

HURST AND BLACKETT'S STANDARD LIBRARY
(continued).

VOL. III.— THE CRESCENT AND THE CROSS.
BT ELIOT WARBURTON.
"Independent of its value as an original narrative," and its useful and interestino;
information, this work is remarkable for the colouring power and play of fancy witli
which its descriptions are enlivened. Among, its greatest and most lasting charms is its
reverent and serious spirit." — Quarterly Review.
"A book calculated to prove more practically useful was never penned than 'The
Crescent and the Cross ' — a work which surpasses all others in its homage for the subr
lime and its love for the beautiful in those famous regions consecrated to everlasting
immortality in the annals of the prophets, and which no other writer has ever depicted
with a pencil at once so reverent and so picturesque."— San.
" In the mixture of story with anecdote, information, and impression, it perhaps
surpasses ' Eothen.' Innumerable passages of force, vivacity, or humour are to be
found in the volumes." — Spectator.

VOL. IV.— NATHALIE. BY JULIA KAVANAGH.
" ' Nathalie ' is Miss Kavanagh's best imaginative effort. Its manner is gracious and
attractive. Its matter is good. A sentiment, a tenderness, are commanded by her which
are as individual as they are elegant. "We should not soon come to an end were we to
specify all the delicate touches and attractive pictures which place ' Nathalie ' high among
books of its class."— Athenmum.
" A tale of untiring interest, full of deen touches of human nature, exhibiting all that
self-sacrificing devotion, and all that sensitive waywardness, the combination of which
constitutes one of the most powerful charms, as well as one of the greatest riddles, of the
female character. "We have no .hesitation in predicting for this delightful tale a lasting
popularity, and a place in the fbremost ranks of that most instructive kind of fiction— the
moral novel."— John Bull.
" A more judicious selection than Nathalie could not have been made for Messrs Hurst
and Blackett's Standard Library. The series as it advances realises our first impression,
that it will be one of lasting celebrity." — Literary Gazttte.

VOL. V.— A WOMAN'S THOUGHTS ABOUT WOMEN.
BY THE AUTHOR OF " JOHN HALIFAX, GENTLEMAN."
" A book of sound counsel. It is one of the most sensible works of its kind, well-writ
ten, true-hearted, and altogether practical. Whoever wishes to give advice to a young
lady may thank the author for means of doing so."— Examiner,
" The author of ' John Halifax ' will retain and extend her hold upon the reading and
reasonable public by the merits of her present work, which bears the stamp of good sense
and genial feeling."— Guardian.
" These thoughts are good and humane. They are thoughts we would wish women to
think : they are much more to the purpose than the treatises upon the women and daugh
ters of England, which were fashionable some years ago, and these thoughts mark the
progress of opinion, and indicate a higher tone of character, and a juster estimate of
woman's position."— Athenteum.
" This really valuable volume ought to be in every young woman's hand. It will teach
her how to think and how to act. "We are glad to see it in this Standard Library." —
Literary Gazette.
" It is almost unnecessary to remark that the authoress of * John Halifax ' must
almost surely write a clever booX; but there are deep thoughts upon the phases of
woman's conduct and disposition, in this volume, which for accuracy and excellence
supersede the former productions of the same pen. The book will attract and de
light those whom it does not profess to teach."— -John Hull.
" Originating in the purest of motives,— the desire of seeing the female portion of the
community virtuous, wise, useful, happy,— these thoughts are worthy of the earnest
and enlightened mind, the all-embracing charity, and the well-earned reputation of
the author of ' John Halifax.' "—Herald,
"A sensible well-written review of the true position and duties of women. There
are some exceedingly valuable remarks upon female professions and handicrafts."—
Critic.

HURST AND BLACKETT'S STANDARD LIBRARY
( CONTINUED ).
VOL. VI.— ADAM GRAEME OF MOSSGRAY.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "MRS MARGARET MAITLAND."
" ' Adam Graeme ' is a story awakening genuine emotions of interest and delight by its
admirable pictures of Scottish life and scenery. The plot is cleverly complicated, and
there is great vitality in the dialogue, and remarkable orilliancy in tile descriptive pas
sages, as who that has read ' Margaret Maitland' would not oe prepared to expect?
But the story has a ' mightier magnet still,' in the healthy tone whioh pervades it, in
its feminine delicacy of thought and diction, and in the truly womanly tenderness of
its sentiments. The eloquent author sets before us the essential attributes of Chris
tian virtue, their deop and silent workings in the heart, and their beautiful manifesta
tions in the life, with a delicacy, a power, and a truth which can hardly be surpassed."
— Morning Post.
VOL. VII.— SAM SLICK'S WISE SAWS
AND MODERN INSTANCES.
" The humour of Sam Slick is inexhaustible. He is ever and everywhere a welcome
visitor; smiles greet his approach, and wit and wisdom hang upon his tongue. The
present production is remarkable alike for its racy humour, its sound philosophy, the
felicity of its illustrations, and the delicacy of its satire. We promise our readers a
great treat from the perusal of these ' "Wise Saws and Modern Instances/ which contain
a world of practical wisdom, and a treasury of the richest fun." — Post.
" "We have not the slightest intention to criticise this book. Its reputation is made,
and will stand as long as that of Scott's or Bulwer's Novels. The remarkable ori
ginality of its purpose, and the happy description it affords of American life and man
ners, still continue the subject of universal admiration. To say thus much is to say
enough, though we must just mention that the new edition forms a part of the Pub
lishers' Cheap Standard Library, which has included some of the very best specimens
of light literature that ever have been written." — Messenger.
VOL. VIII.— CARDINAL WISEMAN'S RECOLLECTIONS
OF THE LAST FOUR POPES.
"A picturesque book on Rome and its ecclesiastical sovereigns, by an eloquent Ro
man Catholic. Cardinal "Wiseman has here treated a special subject with so much
generality and geniality, that his recollections will excite no ill-feeling in those who
are most conscientiously opposed to every idea of human infallibility represented in
Papal domination." — Amenawm.
VOL. IX.— A LIFE FOR A LIFE.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "JOHN HALIFAX, GENTLEMAN."
"We are always glad to welcome Miss Muloch. She writes from her own convic
tions, and she has the power not only to conceive clearly what it is that she wishes to
say, but to express it in language effective and vigorous. In ' A Life for a Life ' she is
fortunate in a good subject, and she has produced a work of strong effect. The
reader having read the book through for the story, will be apt (if he be of our per
suasion) to return and read again many pages and passages with greater pleasure
than on a first perusal. The whole book is replete with a graceful, tender deli
cacy ; and in addition to its other merits, it is written in good careful English."—
Athenaum. " The works of this author go beneath the surface, and present a picture of human
joys and human sufferings in which those deep hopes, disappointments, and sorrows,
Which are the very well-springs of our existence, are brought to light, and set before
us by a sympathising mind. ' A Life for a Life ' is a book of this class. The characters
are depicted with a masterly hand, the events are dramatically set forth ; the descrip
tions of scenery and sketches of society are admirably penned ; moreover the work has
an object — a clearly defined moral— most poetically, most beautifully drawn; and
through all there is that strong reflective mind visible which lays bare the human
heart and human mind to the very core."— Post.

HURST AND BLACKETT'S STANDARD LIBRARY
( CONTINUED ).

VOL. X.— THE OLD COURT SUBURB. BY LEIGH HUNT.
" A delightful book, of which the charm begins at the first line on the first page, for full of
iquaint and pleasant memories is the phrase that is its title, 'The Old Court Suburb.' Very full,
too, both of quaint and pleasant memories is the line that designates the author. It is the name
of the most cheerful of chroniclers, the best of remembrancers of good things, the most polished
and entertaining of educated gossips. ' The Old Court Suburb ' is a work that will be welcome to
all readers, and most welcome to those who havea love for the best kinds of reading." — Examiner.
"A more agreeable and entertaining book has not been published since Bos well produced his
reminiscences of Johnson." — Observer.

VOL. XI.— MARGARET AND HER BRIDESMAIDS.
" We may save ourselves the trouble of giving any lengthened review of this work, for we recom
mend all who are in search of a fascinating novel to read it for themselves. They will find it well
worth their while. There are a freshness and originality about it quite charming, and there is a
certain nobleness in the treatment both of sentiment and incident which is not often found." —
Athenamm.

VOL. XII— THE OLD JUDGE. BY SAM SLICK
"This work is redolent of the hearty fun and strong masculine sense of our old friend 'Sam
Slide/ In these sketches we have different interlocutors, and a far greater variety of character
than in ' Sam Slick/ while in acuteness of observation, pungency of remark, and abounding hearti
ness of drollery, the present work of Judge Haliburton is quite equal to the first. Every page is
alive with rapid, fresh sketches of character, droll, quaint, racy sayings, good-humoured practical
jokes, and capitally-told anecdotes." — Chronicle.
"These popular sketches, in which the Author of f Sam Slick' paints Nova Scotian life, form the
12th Volume of Messrs Hurst and Blackett' s Standard Library of Modern Works. The publica
tions included in this Library have all been of good quality; many give information while they
entertain, and of that class the book before us is a specimen. The manner in which the Cheap
Editions forming the series is produced deserves especial mention. The paper and print are mi-
exceptionable ; there is a steel engraving in each volume, and the outeides of them will satisfy the
purchaser who likes to see a regiment of books in handsome uniform." — Examiner.

VOL. XIIL— DARIEN. BY ELIOT WARBURT0N.
"This last production, from the pen of the author of 'The Crescent and the Cross,' has the same
elements of a very wide popularity. It will please its thousands." — Globe.
" This work will be read with peculiar interest as the last contribution to the literature of his
country of a man endowed with no ordinary gifts of intellect. Eliot Warburton's active and pro
ductive genius is amply exemplified in the present book. We have seldom met with any work in
which the realities of history and the poetry of fiction were more happily interwoven." — Illustrated
Mews*

VOL. XIV.— FAMILY ROMANCE ; OR, DOMESTIC
ANNALS OF THE ARISTOCRACY.
BY SIR BERNARD BURKE, Ulster King of Aems. (Jan. 1.)
" It were impossible to praise too highly as a work of amusement this most interesting book,
whether we Bhould have regard to its excellent plan or its not less excellent execution. It ought to
he found on every drawing-room tabic. Here you have nearly fifty captivating romances with the
pith of all their interest preserved in undiminished poignancy, and any one may be read in half an
hour. It is not the least of their merits that the romances are founded on fact— or what, at least,
has been handed down for truth by long tradition— and the romance of reality far exceeds the
romance of fiction. Each story is told in the clear, unaffected style with which the author's former
works have made the public familiar."— Standard

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