The silk tapestries in the Vatican excited our wonder and admiration. They are most beautifully worked pictures, and cover the walls over an immense area. Unfortunately, we had a nonchalant guide on this day, who was only enthusiastic over his cigarettes, and whose purely mechanical utterances exasperated one in the same degree as do the solemn old Beefeaters in our own Tower, or the garrulous, conceited guide at Notre Dame, Paris. A good cicerone can invest the most trifling objects with interest, while a bad one simply irritates one's temper and wastes precious time.
The Vatican palace is a large, ugly, barrack-like building, painted yellow, and surrounded by high walls. Here "His Holiness" lives, a self-immured prisoner, on unlimited patrol. It is an immense place. There are two courts, eight grand, and a hundred smaller staircases, and upward of a thousand rooms. Indeed, the Vatican taken as a whole, with its extensive stables, etc., resembles a small town rather than the palace of a sovereign. So that, though a "prisoner," Leo XIII. is by no means shut up in a cloister. He is, I believe, a man of the highest culture, and leads a most unselfish and simple life: frugal in his own personal expenses—the cost of his table not exceeding that of an ordinary labouring man—he is filled with an earnest desire to exercise the responsibilities of his position. One can well imagine, therefore, that the almost total deprivation from temporal power, and the neutralized allegiance of so many of his Italian subjects, must be most galling and heart-breaking to him. The Pope, indeed, is almost a nonentity at home; yet we cannot but feel that this alienation between Italy and her spiritual father is for the real good of the State. It has ever been the policy of the Papacy to keep the people in poverty and superstitious ignorance. The priesthood has shamefully failed to identify themselves with the aspirations and wants of the people, and consequently have lost all hold on their hearts. Other nations have freed themselves gradually from the yoke of Rome, so baleful in its influences to all vigorous strength and constitutional greatness. And now Italy has certainly a future before her, downtrodden in the dust as she has been for many years. Garibaldi's was the arm to raise her; his the voice to hail Victor Emmanuel with the proud title of "Re d'Italia." It is, therefore, significant of the times and of the future, that a people so susceptible of adoration and superstition as the Italians, should have lost faith in the efficacy of their priesthood, and have fairly had their eyes opened to the fact that the dignitaries of the Church have been well fed and prosperous, dwelling in gorgeous palaces, and wearing fine apparel, at the expense of the starving population, who have paid them for their prayers for the repose of their dead, for their confessions of sin, and maybe for fresh indulgence in the same. Happily, their minds are now awakening from long darkness and ignorance, to view in its true light the degrading bondage in which they have so long been content to remain passive.
Yet this supremacy of the Roman Church, before it was so grossly abused, like all other remnants of the system of the dark ages, has been of use in its day. The priesthood combined with their religious duties those faculties now known as Law, Physic, and Literature, and also supplied the place of all charitable and scholastic institutions. The Church was the nursery of Christendom, and it is only since the world has progressed in education, and arrived at manhood, that it has renounced the leading-strings of its infancy. England, Germany, and all the other Teutonic races of the north, the elder children of Europe, did this long ago; they dated their coming of age at the Reformation, and united in revolt against the grossly abused power of their nurse and foster-mother, who still sought to control their actions and destinies. They laughed at the rod of excommunication, threateningly upheld; and this once defied, the Pope and his Cardinals were fain to turn their attention exclusively to those who were still content to be under their protecting wing. But now the time has arrived once more when these also desire to emancipate themselves from thraldom. Let us hope, then, that the manhood of Italy will be a noble one, and full of earnest faith and high endeavour.
The Church of St. John Lateran, in the Piazza di St. Giovanni (on the site of the house of Plautius Lateranus, one of the conspirators against Nero), is one of the chief Basilicas. (This title of "Basilica" is only given to those churches whose foundation dates from the time of Constantine.) The five general councils known as the "Lateran Councils" were held here. It is called "The Mother and Head of all the Churches of the City and the World," and takes precedence even of St. Peter's in point of sanctity. The portico and doors are very fine, and the interior possesses much of interest; it is divided into five aisles, resting on lateral arches and pilasters. Here, in 1300, Pope Boniface VIII. proclaimed the Jubilee from the balcony, Dante being present on the occasion. The Corsini Chapel is said to be the richest in Rome, some half a million sterling having been squandered on it. There are some very fine mosaics and paintings by Guido, Sacchi, and others. Like most of the churches, it has a great many legends attaching to it to enhance its interest. Among other pretended relics shown here are two pillars from the temple of Jerusalem, the well of Samaria, and the table used at the Last Supper. The Scala Santa, or holy stairs, on the palace side of the church, and detached from it, are composed of twenty-eight black marble steps, said to have belonged to the palace of Pontius Pilate at Jerusalem. Penitents ascend these steps on their knees (no foot being allowed to touch them), praying as they go, in order to visit a sanctorum at the top, which contains a portrait of the Saviour, painted, so the priests tell us, by St. Luke at twelve years of age. They descend by other steps, and thus they acquire so many days' or years' indulgence. An Englishman, a fellow-traveller, told me that he had ascended the steps as described, not being allowed to do otherwise, and he found it very sore work for his poor knees—and "Serve him right," thought I. In one of the adjoining chapels of this church an attendant sells pictures and relics. There is no real reverence here for sanctity of the House of God, as is shown by thus turning it into a house of merchandize, and also by the vile and unpleasant habit indulged in of spitting all over the beautiful mosaic and marble floors.
The Borgo Novice is the finest street in this part of the city.
CHAPTER XII.[ToC]
Excursion to Tivoli—Sulphur baths—Memories—Temple of the Sybil—River Anio—Lovely scenery—Back to Rome—Post-office—Careless officials—The everlasting "Weed"—Climate of Rome—Discomforts and disappointments—Young Italy—Leo XIII.—Italian Politics—Cessation of Brigandage—The new city—American church—Italian Times—Departure for Naples—Regrets—The Three Taverns—A picturesque route—Naples by night.