Like All The
Churches In Calabria, It Is White-Washed From Door To Altar, Pillars
No Less Than Walls - A Cold And Depressing Interior.
I could see no
picture of the least merit; one, a figure of Christ with hideous
wounds, was well-nigh as repulsive as painting could be.
This vile
realism seems to indicate Spanish influence. There is a miniature
copy in bronze of the statue of the chief Apostle in St. Peter's at
Rome, and beneath it an inscription making known to the faithful
that, by order of Leo XIII. in 1896, an Indulgence of three hundred
days is granted to whosoever kisses the bronze toe and says a
prayer. Familiar enough this unpretentious announcement, yet it
never fails of its little shock to the heretic mind. Whilst I was
standing near, a peasant went through the mystic rite; to judge from
his poor malaria-stricken countenance, he prayed very earnestly, and
I hope his Indulgence benefited him. Probably he repeated a mere
formula learnt by heart. I wished he could have prayed spontaneously
for three hundred days of wholesome and sufficient food, and for as
many years of honest, capable government in his heavy-burdened
country.
When travelling, I always visit the burial-ground; I like to see how
a people commemorates its dead, for tombstones have much
significance. The cemetery of Cotrone lies by the sea-shore, at some
distance beyond the port, far away from habitations; a bare hillside
looks down upon its graves, and the road which goes by is that
leading to Cape Colonna.
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