I admired the now existing church extremely, both for its noble proportions and the beautiful simplicity of its design and ornamentation. The stained glass windows are one of its distinguishing marks of beauty. "It is a woful thing, a sad necessity, that any Christian soul should pass from earth without once seeing an antique painted window, with the bright Italian sunshine glowing through it. There is no other such true symbol of the glories of the better world, where a celestial radiance will be inherent in all things and persons, and render each continually transparent to the sight of all." The atrium, with its marble floor of almost spotless beauty, its lofty columns and noble simplicity of architecture, represented my beau-ideal of a Christian temple. There was not a single seat or chair—which I believe is the case with all Basilicas, the congregation standing and kneeling only—and this fact greatly adds to the apparent vastness of this noble structure, which forms a beautiful and suitable monument to the great and good St. Paul.
While on the subject of churches, I may mention two other fine edifices we visited, both full of interest, though of a diverse nature.
The Church of Santa Maria Maggiore, on the Esquiline Hill, near the railway station, is one of the four chief Basilicas of Rome, and well repays a visit. It gives one more the idea of what a Basilica was really meant to be than any similar edifice in Rome. The richly painted panels, the interior colonnade with its long harmonious rows of pillars, the clerestory decorated en suite with small pilasters and panels, and the beautiful panelled roof, all combine to give the building an air of lofty and noble magnificence. The high altar is very beautiful, with its decorations of marble, gilding, and precious stones: it is also interesting as possessing the crypt in which Pius IX. was interred. The tombs of Sixtus V. and Pius V. are also here; and in contrast to the S. Paolo Basilica, which has no side chapels at all, this church possesses two very fine ones, the Borghese, and the Presigio, which are as rich in ornamental work as the rest of the building. The latter contains the supposititious cradle of our Lord; and the former has in veritas the beautiful tomb of a Borghese princess and high-born Englishwoman (Lady Geraldine Talbot). The altar of the Virgin is supported by four pillars of oriental jasper, agate, and gilded bronze; the image, which is said to have been the work of St. Luke(!), is richly adorned with precious stones. The church itself abounds in beautiful pictures, statuary, and tombs. The chapel of Santa Lucia is also very interesting, possessing many beautiful tombs, bas-reliefs, etc.
The other church we visited, S. Pietro in Vincoli (St. Peter in Chains), is considered the most ancient in Rome. It is a noble hall, supported by twenty columns of Parian marble, and has many fine and interesting monuments. It is always a debatable point this—St. Peter's presence in Rome. We have no actual proof that he was ever there, and yet the great number of places associated with his name and made sacred to his memory seem to point strongly to such a supposition. Yet it may be only the religious deceit of the priesthood, who thus couple persons and things with places, and insert monstrous legends and traditions for their own mercenary ends, and, considering the immense number of extraordinary relics, it is very evident that Mr. Shapira has had many predecessors in the art of manufacturing antiquities.
One of the most pleasing features of Rome is its numerous beautiful fountains, generally to be found in the piazzas, sometimes surrounded by fine architectural and sculptural groupings. It seems as if the great men of every age in this city "have found no better way of immortalizing their memories than by the shifting, indestructible, ever-new, ever-changing upgush and downfall of water. They have written their names in that unstable element, and proved it a more durable record than brass or marble."
The Fontana dell' Aqua Felice, near the baths of Diocletian, has a fine statue of Moses striking the rock, by Prospero da Brescia, who is said to have died of mortification at the ridicule excited by the figure of the great lawgiver, in which a slight uncouthness is certainly perceptible. The figures of Aaron and Gideon have been added to the group by other artists. This fountain was celebrated by Tasso under the name of the Fontana di Termini. The Fontana Paulina on the summit of the Janiculum, near Porto S. Pancrazio, is like a triple triumphal arch. The Fontana di Trevi, situated near the Palazzo Poli, is the most famous in Rome. Its clear, sparkling water comes through the subterranean aqueducts from far beyond the city walls. The design of the fountain is by some sculptor of the Bernini school, and represents Neptune with his attendant tritons, Health and Abundance. "It is as magnificent a piece of work as ever human skill contrived. At the foot of the palatial façade is strewn, with careful art and ordered irregularity, a broad and broken heap of massive rock, looking as if it might have lain there since the deluge. Over a central precipice falls the water in a semicircular cascade, and from a hundred crevices on all sides silvery jets gush up, and streams spout out of the mouths and nostrils of stone monsters, and fall in glistening drops; while other rivulets, that have run wild, come leaping from one rude step to another, over stones that are mossy, slimy, and green with sedge, because in a century of their wild play, Nature has adopted the Fountain of Trevi, with all its elaborate devices, for her own. Finally the water, tumbling, sparkling, and dashing, with joyous haste and never-ceasing murmur, pours itself into a great marble-brimmed reservoir, and fills it with a quivering tide, on which is seen continually a snowy semicircle of momentary foam from the principal cascade, as well as a multitude of snow points from smaller jets. The basin occupies the whole breadth of the piazza, whence flights of steps ascend to its border. A boat might float and make voyages from one shore to another, in this mimic lake."
The great aqueducts, by which these fountains are supplied, are marvels of ingenuity and engineering skill, sometimes bringing the pure crystal stream from lakes and hills thirty and forty miles away. Dyer, the old eighteenth-century poet, has a graceful mention of them in his "Ruins of Rome":
"From yon blue hills
[117] Dim in the clouds, the radiant aqueducts
Turn their innumerable arches o'er
The spacious desert, brightening in the sun,
Proud and more proud in their august approach;
High o'er irriguous vales and woods and towns,
Glide the soft whispering waters in the wind,
And more united pour their silver streams
Among the figur'd rocks in murmuring falls,
Musical ever."
These noble aqueducts were the chief source of Rome's health and luxury, and were in charge of Curators or Prefects, who formed a kind of "water board." It is a system which might with great advantage be adopted by our own large cities, which are lamentably wanting in a good and liberal supply of fresh water—greedy monopolists charging what they choose, and giving us the precious fluid clean or unclean, when or how they like. The Government might do much to improve this state of things by constructing aqueducts after the ancient Roman style.
Another marked feature in Roman life we are not so anxious to see imitated in our own country, is the abnormal quantity of beggars one meets everywhere. They are of every sort and description, and swarm round you wherever you go. Some of them a most pitiful and distressing sight, only half clothed and seemingly starving. Their number is only equalled by the legion of priests, who come upon you at every turn, in all grades, from cardinals to novices. Of course, this is by no means to be wondered at, Rome being the one great focus and clerical seminary of the Roman Catholic world. But the contrast between the starving squalid poor and the legions of well-fed priests is very painful.