Seeing Europe with Famous Authors, Volume 7 | Page 5

came upon the Coliseum, when it was
already twilight. When one looks at it, all else seems little; the edifice
is so vast, that one can not hold the image of it in one's soul--in
memory we think it smaller, and then return to it again to find it every
time greater than before.
We entered the Sistine Chapel, which we found bright and cheerful,
and with a good light for the pictures. "The Last Judgment" divided our
admiration with the paintings on the roof by Michael Angelo. I could
only see and wonder. The mental confidence and boldness of the
master, and his grandeur of conception, are beyond all expression.
After we had looked at all of them over and over again, we left this
sacred building, and went to St. Peter's, which received from the bright

heavens the loveliest light possible, and every part of it was clearly lit
up. As men willing to be pleased, we were delighted with its vastness
and splendor, and did not allow an over-nice or hypercritical taste to
mar our pleasure. We supprest every harsher judgment; we enjoyed the
enjoyable.
Lastly we ascended the roof of the church, where one finds in little the
plan, of a well-built city. Houses and magazines, springs (in appearance
at least), churches, and a great temple all in the air, and beautiful walks
between. We mounted the dome, and saw glistening before us the
regions of the Apennines, Soracte, and toward Tivoli the volcanic hills.
Frascati, Castelgandolfo, and the plains, and beyond all the sea. Close
at our feet lay the whole city of Rome in its length and breadth, with its
mountain palaces, domes, etc. Not a breath of air was moving, and in
the upper dome it was (as they say) like being in a hot-house. When we
had looked enough at these things, we went down, and they opened for
us the doors in the cornices of the dome, the tympanum, and the nave.
There is a passage all round, and from above you can take a view of the
whole church, and of its several parts. As we stood on the cornices of
the tympanum, we saw beneath us the pope passing to his mid-day
devotions. Nothing, therefore, was wanting to make our view of St.
Peter's perfect. We at last descended to the piazza, and took in a
neighboring hotel a cheerful but frugal meal, and then set off for St.
Cecilia's.
It would take many words to describe the decorations of this church,
which was crammed full of people; not a stone of the edifice was to be
seen. The pillars were covered with red velvet wound round with gold
lace; the capitals were overlaid with embroidered velvet, so as to retain
somewhat of the appearance of capitals, and all the cornices and pillars
were in like manner covered with hangings. All the entablatures of the
walls were also covered with life-like paintings, so that the whole
church seemed to be laid out in mosaic. Around the church, and on the
high altar more than two hundred wax tapers were burning. It looked
like a wall of lights, and the whole nave was perfectly lit up. The aisles
and side altars were equally adorned and illuminated. Right opposite
the high altar, and under the organ, two scaffolds were erected, which

also were covered with velvet, on one of which were placed the singers,
and on the other the instruments, which kept up one unbroken strain of
music....
And yet these glorious objects are even still like new acquaintances to
me. One has not yet lived with them, nor got familiar with their
peculiarities. Some of them attract us with irresistible power, so that for
a time one feels indifferent, if not unjust, toward all others. Thus, for
instance, the Pantheon, the Apollo Belvedere, some colossal heads, and
very recently the Sistine Chapel, have by turns so won my whole heart,
that I scarcely saw any thing besides them. But, in truth, can man, little
as man always is, and accustomed to littleness, ever make himself
equal to all that here surrounds him of the noble, the vast, and the
refined? Even tho he should in any degree adapt himself to it, then how
vast is the multitude of objects that immediately press upon him from
all sides, and meet him at every turn, of which each demands for itself
the tribute of his whole attention. How is one to get out of the difficulty?
No other way assuredly than by patiently allowing it to work, becoming
industrious, and attending the while to all that others have
accomplished for our benefit.
Of the beauty of a walk through Rome by moonlight it is impossible to
form a conception, without having witnessed it. All