For He Said, Shrugging
His Shoulders With Great Vivacity, And Giving A Pleasant Smile,
'But He's Dead, Signore, He's Dead.
Why not?'
Among the innumerable churches, there is one I must select for
separate mention. It is the church of the Ara Coeli, supposed to
be built on the site of the old Temple of Jupiter Feretrius; and
approached, on one side, by a long steep flight of steps, which
seem incomplete without some group of bearded soothsayers on the
top. It is remarkable for the possession of a miraculous Bambino,
or wooden doll, representing the Infant Saviour; and I first saw
this miraculous Bambino, in legal phrase, in manner following, that
is to say:
We had strolled into the church one afternoon, and were looking
down its long vista of gloomy pillars (for all these ancient
churches built upon the ruins of old temples, are dark and sad),
when the Brave came running in, with a grin upon his face that
stretched it from ear to ear, and implored us to follow him,
without a moment's delay, as they were going to show the Bambino to
a select party. We accordingly hurried off to a sort of chapel, or
sacristy, hard by the chief altar, but not in the church itself,
where the select party, consisting of two or three Catholic
gentlemen and ladies (not Italians), were already assembled: and
where one hollow-cheeked young monk was lighting up divers candles,
while another was putting on some clerical robes over his coarse
brown habit. The candles were on a kind of altar, and above it
were two delectable figures, such as you would see at any English
fair, representing the Holy Virgin, and Saint Joseph, as I suppose,
bending in devotion over a wooden box, or coffer; which was shut.
The hollow-cheeked monk, number One, having finished lighting the
candles, went down on his knees, in a corner, before this set-
piece; and the monk number Two, having put on a pair of highly
ornamented and gold-bespattered gloves, lifted down the coffer,
with great reverence, and set it on the altar. Then, with many
genuflexions, and muttering certain prayers, he opened it, and let
down the front, and took off sundry coverings of satin and lace
from the inside. The ladies had been on their knees from the
commencement; and the gentlemen now dropped down devoutly, as he
exposed to view a little wooden doll, in face very like General Tom
Thumb, the American Dwarf: gorgeously dressed in satin and gold
lace, and actually blazing with rich jewels. There was scarcely a
spot upon its little breast, or neck, or stomach, but was sparkling
with the costly offerings of the Faithful. Presently, he lifted it
out of the box, and carrying it round among the kneelers, set its
face against the forehead of every one, and tendered its clumsy
foot to them to kiss--a ceremony which they all performed down to a
dirty little ragamuffin of a boy who had walked in from the street.
When this was done, he laid it in the box again:
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