THE BASILICA OF ST. PETER.
TRANSLATED FROM LES ETUDES RELIGIEUSES, HISTORIQUES ET LITTERAIRES.
While visiting, two or three months since, the Vatican Basilica, it seemed to me there was a certain correspondence, a kind of harmony, between this monument and the great event of which it is soon to be the theatre. Since that time new observations have strengthened this first impression; then reminiscences of a different kind, the perusal of various works, unfortunately too limited in numbers, and especially a more attentive examination of St. Peter's, have had the effect of defining more clearly what at first was only a vague and confused perception.
Before my pilgrimage to Rome, I was so fortunate as to visit one of the cities which had for a long time been the objects of my most ardent curiosity. I refer to the humble Tyrolean city where, more than three hundred years ago, was held the last and most glorious of the general councils. The city of Trent presents nothing extraordinary to the eye of the traveller except, perhaps, a kind of trident of mountains which gives it its name, and which forms around it a group of natural fortifications truly grand. Certain monuments, among others the cathedral of a Roman style, and somewhat interesting, appeared to merit some attention. But that which attracts and interests the Catholic heart in the most lively degree is the church where the holy Œcumenical Council held its immortal sessions. It bears the name of St. Mary Major, the same as the great Roman basilica so generally known and venerated. In truth, this renowned title is hardly appropriate, if the dimensions of the edifice and its architectural merits alone are considered. In these respects it more nearly resembles our modest Parisian church of Notre Dame des Victoires. This comparison, without being wholly just, may yet give a good idea of the sanctuary rendered illustrious by the Council of Trent.
As to the local traditions respecting this august assembly, a sojourn far too short prevented me from collecting them as fully as I could have wished. According to the information of a respectable priest with whom I conversed a short time, a great revival of faith, the effects of which are still visible, took place in the city on the third commemorative centenary in the month of June, 1863. This same ecclesiastic likewise informed me that the memory of our great Laynez has always been dear to the popular memory, and that the greatest eulogium that can be passed upon a man who devotes himself to works of charity is to compare him to that indefatigable apostle. Probably his learned discourses are nearly forgotten even in the places where they were delivered; his preaching is only remembered because of his deeds, a new proof, among so many others, in support of the divine word, "Wisdom passeth away, ... but charity shall never pass away."
Not far from the entrance of Santa Maria Maggiore is a monument, erected in 1855 for the first anniversary of the proclamation of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception. It bears a statue of her "who has destroyed all heresies throughout the world," and for whom the fathers of the Council of Trent formally stipulated an exception in the decrees respecting the doctrine of original sin. I noticed in the interior of the church a painting representing one of the reunions of the council, and especially the crucifix which stood on a table in the centre of the nave and presided, so to speak, at those solemn assemblies. This crucifix may now be seen above one of the side altars. It is regarded with extreme veneration by the faithful. I will not attempt to depict my emotion in celebrating the holy mysteries before this sacred image with the same chalice the cardinal legate had used, which was kindly loaned me by the venerable chaplain. You can easily imagine that the place, the circumstances, and those precious relics, without mentioning my own inclinations, imposed it on me as a duty to offer up the holy sacrifice for the success of the approaching council.
On the whole, the city of Trent and the sanctuary of the council do not fully correspond with the solemn grandeur of the event which took place therein. It is unnecessary to say that this kind of contrast does not shock in the least a mind at all familiar with objects connected with the faith. This want of correspondence is frequently to be noticed even in a more striking degree. The least supernatural eye soon forgets the whole edifice and these material objects only to behold the great Christian wonders once wrought within so small a space. We say to ourselves, with profound emotion, that this is the cenacle of modern times—a real cenacle, in truth, where the light of the Holy Ghost was diffused more abundantly than had ever taken place since the day of Pentecost.
Without any great effort of the imagination I could see a figure of the religious renovation produced by the holy Council of Trent in circumstances, wholly accidental, that occurred at the time of my journey. It was during the latter part of the month of October. On the way from Botzen the country had been ravaged by an inundation of the Adige. Everywhere was a scene of desolation sad to behold. The following morning, on the contrary, just as we were starting for Italy, a glorious sun rose over the city of Trent. The bold summits that surround it were crowned with such lights as are only seen in mountainous countries. Clouds of magic brilliancy hung here and there over the deep gorges and on the heights, the fields had resumed their joyous and smiling aspect, even the traces of the inundation were less sad to behold, and our eyes could linger with a pleasure almost without alloy on the magnificence of nature.
The council of the nineteenth century, for which preparations are now being made at Rome and throughout the civilized world, cannot be less fruitful than that of the sixteenth in the regeneration and salvation of souls. The gravest reasons on every hand appear to justify this hope, and perhaps it is allowable to find a significant sign of it in the happy choice of the place where this great court of Catholicity is to be held. At all events, the basilica of St. Peter is certainly the most suitable theatre in the whole world in which to assemble an œcumenical council. Every thing about it is marvellously adapted to this purpose; every thing seems to reveal a preconceived harmony that divine Providence is so often pleased to manifest in the accomplishment of his august designs. In speaking thus, I only express differently, if I am not mistaken, the idea of Sixtus III. in the fifth century. This pontiff, having convoked in the ancient basilica of St. Peter a certain number of bishops, wrote to Cyril, the patriarch of Alexandria, to announce this synod, and, among other things, wrote these remarkable words: "Ad beatum Petrum Apostolum universa fraternitas convenit. Ecce auditorium congruens auditoribus, conveniens audiendis."[72] "The whole brotherhood meets at the tomb of blessed Peter the Apostle. Behold a place befitting both the hearers and the things to be heard."
It cannot be doubted that this suitability, so well understood by Sixtus III., also occurred to Pius IX., when he designated the tomb of St. Peter as the rendezvous of his brethren in the episcopate. It seems to me desirable that an inscription in a conspicuous place should bear the fine expression of Sixtus III. Its meaning and adaptation with regard to the approaching council would be more strikingly apparent than they could have been at the particular synod of the fifth century.