442 A VISIT TO ST. PETER'S AT ROME. 



that half-worn foot on which once stood the statue of a Pagan god. 

 And his victims can such an idol be without his victims ? Listen 

 to those heavenly sounds which are streaming through the open door- 

 way of yonder chapel, and at the same time watch the countenances 

 of the crowd who throng to hear the music. The harmony and ex- 

 pression are perfect, the melody soft and enchanting. Why then do 

 the women listen with a mocking smile, and an air of derision ? 

 Why do the men regard these exquisite musicians with a look of 

 pity ? Those are the victims sacrificed before the idol ! and their 

 duty is to chant in honour of the fiend who has destroyed them ! You 

 see that boy who is trained, and tutored, and supported by the rest, 

 what constant attention, what flattering kindness he receives ! Poor 

 child ! They instruct and adopt him, and, I believe they may love 

 him, for he is become as one of themselves. You remember the 

 wretched being with streaming hair, a crooked, mis-shapen body, 

 and a squeaking voice, who supplicated our charity as we were com- 

 ing to the temple he too is another victim ; but he is turned adrift 

 to beg, steal, or starve, for he has no talent, and no voice to sing with 

 his fellow-victims before the horrible, black, iron idol '. But puffed 

 up with vanity, with fatness, and with gay clothing, they may not feel 

 their degradation and their wretchedness as we feel it for them. The 

 wind is tempered to the shorn lamb and besides it is foolish to brood 

 unnecessarily over painful objects, which we can neither remedy nor 

 alleviate, so we will pass on to something else. But before entirely 

 quitting this awful and imposing figure, it may be worth while to 

 mention a circumstance which shows how differently the same excit- 

 ing cause strikes the imagination of different individuals. 



I had mentioned in a small circle of friends the impression pro- 

 duced upon my mind by this (so called) brazen statue. A gentleman 

 present observed that he did not recollect it, and the following morn- 

 ing revisited St. Peter's for the sake of inspecting what I had con- 

 sidered so remarkable. In the evening I inquired the result of his 

 researches, and he had not been able to find it. Not able to see a 

 black statue at least seven or eight feet high, with a golden lamp 

 eternally burning before it, seated on a marble chair under a crimson 

 canopy, elevated from the pavement by a pedestal nearly the height 

 of a man, placed in a most conspicuous point of view, and the object 

 of continual veneration to thousands ! Well, some people may have 

 eyes, and hearts, and imaginations, but others, we might almost be- 

 lieve, are born and go through the world without being burthened 

 with any such troublesome appendages. 



We have had a glance at the most abject of the slaves who are 

 chained to the walls of this mighty temple, let us, for the sake of the 

 contrast, now cast our eyes at the higher order of beings at the 

 lords, the princes, almost the demigods of this vast fane. Let us dare 

 to look at one of those mysterious beings who has a chance, a possi- 

 bility of becoming one day the man-god, the grand lama of Europe. 

 Here comes a Cardinal ! We are fortunate to day. He is about to 

 perform his private devotions in public. It does seem strange that 

 a man cannot say his prayers without being accompanied by a train- 

 bearer, a confessor, and three or four servants with cocked-hats, 



