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entered
the gates of the so-called Eternal City. But how in these brief and hasty
ivy-notes, can I adequately describe what I have observed of ancient and
modern Rome?
There are about as many churches in Rome as there are days in a year. The
majority of them are very ordinary structures, and sometimes when the exterior
is quite plain and even forbidding, you will find the interior elaborately
ornate and gorgeous. There is but one Gothic church in Rome, and but very
few of these edifices have painted windows. The principal materials of ornamentation
are marbles of various colors, and other rare stones, statuary, paintings,
silver and gildings. You will sometimes find nearly the whole interior of
a church, its floors, its columns, its walls, its alter and chapels, gleaming
with polished and exquisitely carved and finished marble of every hue. The
niches are filled with statues and pictures – monuments of Popes,
Cardinals, Bishops and Saints, and paintings of Scripture scenes, in which
dignitaries of the Church are strangely blended; while crucifixes and Madonnas
everywhere abound. Frequently most horrid scenes of martyrdom, agony and
blood are represented. Everything that can affect the scenes, and through
them move the passions, find a place in these ecclesiastical decorations
and emblems.
One of the first churches the stranger visits, is that great and wonderful
edifice, St. Peter’s, whose magnificent dome reflects the unrivaled
genius of Michael Angelo. Its construction occupied centuries, and the most
renowned architects lavished their skill upon it. A great part of the incredible
amount of money expended upon it was realized from the sale of indulgences.
In going to St. Peter’s, a friend pointed out the house where Raphael
the prince of painters lived. It is in a narrow, mean and dirty street,
and the house itself is only worthy of its location. After crossing the
muddy Tiber by the Bridge of St. Angelo, amid colossal marble statues, with
the immense circular Tomb of Hadrian, now a fortress and prison, rising
before you, and passing some distance along a narrow, filthy street, lined
with huckster-shop, you come to the large open, oval Piazza of St. Peter’s.
On either hand
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