How appropriate these words are, placed in the mouth of the great Buonaroti, we could hardly imagine till we had seen this sublime work of art.
We felt greatly interested, in common with all our countrymen, in the tomb which contains the ashes of the last of the Stuarts. Canova's winged genii stand with reversed torches on either side of the door, which is now closed for ever.
I must confess that I was neither pleased nor edified by the services conducted in the gorgeous side chapels; they certainly seemed but a mechanical form of prayer, little less than sacrilegious; the bishops, priests, and choir hastening to get through the formula—those who were not yawning taking snuff. Indeed, there was a dreadful absence of real Christian humility and reverence. One day we arrived in time to witness a High Church ceremonial—it was the anniversary of St. Peter. Cardinal Howard officiated instead of the Pope, who had one of his frequent fits of the sulks towards Italy. He was supported by all the great dignitaries and potentates of the Romish Church, "a grotesque company of old womanish old men in gaudy gowns." The cardinal is a robust Englishman of the Friar Tuck style—the very antithesis to the spiritual, thoughtful, Newman type. He is, however, zealous in his duties, and much liked by the people. The principal part of the ceremony seemed to consist in the constant changing of the cardinal's gorgeous robes, accompanied by procession and prayer; and finally, when he left, the people, more especially the women, rushed to kiss his hand. In spite of its incongruity in our eyes, it was rather a touching sight, and the cardinal seemed to realize almost painfully, as we did, the adoration of the poorer of his flock.
The music was instrumental and vocal, the former composed entirely of stringed instruments, and we were not at all inspired by it. It was not to be compared to the fine choirs of St Paul's, the Temple, or, Westminster Abbey; and for sacred music I think there is nothing like the grand, melodious swell of the organ. We found none of the grand Masses or other ceremonies of the Roman Church at St. Peter's, which could compare for a moment in reverential feeling with the solemn impressiveness of our own large churches during our beautiful and eloquent service, which is so full of deep and earnest feeling, and yet withal so simple that all can understand; and what more sublime than to hear a vast congregation singing, as with a single voice, one of our fine old hymns, such as the imperishable and soul-inspiring "Rock of Ages"? Yet even here I think there is sometimes too much of a secular character now introduced into church music.
The more one sees of St. Peter's the less easy it is to realize that so magnificent and wonderful an edifice has been constructed by man. Compare the stupendous structure with the puny attempts of the present day. Architecture seems almost a lost art. I think this is owing to want of patience; the lack of doing all things thoroughly and well; the preference for mere show rather than durability and beauty; and the selfish gratification of our own generation rather than a patriotic pride and thought for future ages. If the nineteenth century has made great advances in the industries, science, and thought, it has also introduced a taste for meretricious imitation in every department of manufacture and art. This is essentially the century for contracts. Everything is done by contract, and not only is the matter of cost, but also that of time, made a strong point in the bargain. When St. Peter's was built, estimates of cost were not thought of, and no one ever dreamed of fixing a date for completion of so vast a work.
To gain admission to the galleries of paintings and sculpture in the Vatican, it is necessary to procure tickets. These may always be obtained of your hotel proprietor, while a pass to the Pantheon and to all exceptional ceremonies can generally be got by an early application to your Banker.
Next to the Vatican, the Villa Borghese, near the Piazza del Popolo, and the gardens of the Pincian Hill, has the most important picture-galleries in Rome. The Palazzo Doria, in the Corso, is also one of the finest in the city. There are three large fronts enclosing a spacious court, and this is surrounded by a piazza. There is a very handsome staircase, leading to the splendid series of galleries full of priceless works by the great masters—Correggio, Raphael, Titian, and others. Unfortunately, we were obliged to hurry through, without seeing half of them properly.
It is necessary to provide yourself with a quantity of small copper coins, for every Usher who shows you anything, expects some payment in return, and they are quite satisfied with a few centissima.
The Vatican contains the richest, rarest, and most varied collection of art treasures in the world. This is not to be wondered at when we remember that it has been the work of more than a hundred popes, many of them princely patrons of art and genius, some very unscrupulous, and each in his day exercising almost uncontrolled power over nations, emperors, and kings, and commanding the moral, physical, and material resources of the civilized world. Here there is gathered, as in an immense casket, the chiefest of the art treasures of all ages, the works of antiquity, and the principal productions of the greatest men who have lived. The dimensions of the Vatican exceed those of Tuileries and Louvre put together. The very list of museums, galleries, and cabinets is bewildering, and I should think a thorough study of the whole would well-nigh occupy a lifetime; it is really daring presumption to rush through in a day or two, and then be content to say you have "done" these things, as so many tourists do.
Through these interesting rooms we wandered and wondered, longing for a fuller comprehension of their contents, yet unable to linger, and almost sated with the numerous beautiful objects demanding our attention on every side. Sight-seeing of this kind is the most fatiguing pastime both to body and brain that any one can indulge in; it is only possible to note the more important objects. We were much struck by the Scala Regia, a fine staircase by Bernini, in the centre of which is a gigantic equestrian statue of Constantine, so placed that a fine ray of light falls on it from above. This probably is typical of his conversion to Christianity.