Corinne, Volume 1 (of 2)
Chapter i.
Oswald passed the following day in the gardens of some monasteries. Hewent first to that of the Carthusians, and stopped some time before heentered, to contemplate two Egyptian lions which are at a littledistance from the gate. Those lions have a remarkable expression ofstrength and repose; there is something in their physiognomy belongingneither to the animal nor the man: they seem one of the forces of natureand enable us to form a conception how the gods of the Pagan theologymight be represented under this emblem.
The Carthusian monastery is built upon the ruins of the Thermae ofDiocletian; and the church by the side of the monastery, is decoratedwith such of its granite columns as remained standing. The monks whoinhabit this retreat are very eager to show them, and the interest theytake in these ruins seems to be the only one they feel in this world.The mode of life observed by the Carthusians, supposes in them either avery limited mind, or the most noble and continued elevation ofreligious sentiments; this succession of days without any variety ofevent, reminds us of that celebrated line:
Sur les mondes detruits le Temple dort immobile.
_The Temple sleeps motionless on the ruins of worlds_.
The whole employment of their life serves but to contemplate death.Activity of mind, with such an uniformity of existence, would be a mostcruel torment. In the midst of the cloister grow four cypresses. Thisdark and silent tree, which is with difficulty agitated by the wind,introduces no appearance of motion into this abode. Near the cypressesis a fountain, scarcely heard, whose fall is so feeble and slow, thatone would be led to call it the clepsydra of this solitude, where timemakes so little noise. Sometimes the moon penetrates it with her palelustre, and her absence and return may be considered as an event in thismonotonous scene.
Those men who exist thus, are nevertheless the same to whom war and allits bustle would scarcely suffice if they had been brought up to it.
The different combinations of human destiny upon earth afford aninexhaustible source of reflection. A thousand accidents pass, and athousand habits are formed in the interior of the soul, which make everyindividual a world and the subject of a history. To know anotherperfectly, would be the task of a whole life; what is it then that weunderstand by knowing men? To govern them is practicable by humanwisdom, but to comprehend them belongs to God alone.
From the Carthusian monastery Oswald repaired to that of St Bonaventure,built upon the ruins of the palace of Nero; there, where so many crimeshave been committed without remorse, poor monks, tormented by scruplesof conscience, impose upon themselves the most cruel punishment for theslightest fault. "_Our only hope_," said one of these devotees, "_isthat at the hour of death our sins will not have exceeded ourpenances_." Lord Nelville, as he entered this monastery struck his footagainst a trap, and asking the use of it--"_It leads to our place ofinterment_;" said one of the young monks, who was already struck withthe malady caused by the malaria. The inhabitants of the south beingvery much afraid of death, we are astonished to find institutions inItaly which fix the ideas upon this point; but it is natural to be fondof thoughts that inspire us with dread. There is, as it were, anintoxication of sadness, which does good to the soul by occupying itentirely.
An ancient Sarcophagus of a young child serves for the fountain to thisconvent. The beautiful Palm-tree of which Rome boasts, is the only treeof any sort in the garden of these monks; but they pay no attention toexternal objects. Their discipline is too rigorous to allow any kind oflatitude to the mind. Their looks are cast down, their gait is slow,they make no use of their will. They have abdicated the government ofthemselves, _so fatiguing is this empire to its sad possessor_. Thisday, however, did not produce much emotion in the soul of Oswald; theimagination revolts at death, presented under all its various forms in amanner so manifestly intentional. When we unexpectedly meet this_memento mori_, when it is nature and not man that speaks to our soul,the impression we receive is much deeper.
Oswald felt the most calm and gentle sensations when, at sunset, heentered the garden of _San Giovanni e Paolo_. The monks of thismonastery are subjected to a much less rigid discipline, and theirgarden commands a view of all the ruins of ancient Rome. From this spotis seen the Coliseum, the Forum, and all the triumphal arches, theobelisks, and the pillars which remain standing. What a fine situationfor such an asylum! The secluded monks are consoled for their ownnothingness, in contemplating the monuments raised by those who are nomore. Oswald strolled for a long time beneath the umbrageous walks ofthis garden, whose beautiful trees sometimes interrupt for a moment theview of Rome, only to redouble the emotion which is felt on beholding itagain. It was that hour of the evening, when all the bells in Rome areheard chiming the _Ave Maria_.
----------------squilla di lontano Che paja il giorno pianger che si muore. DANTE.
----------------_the vesper bell from far, That seems to mourn for the expiring day._ CAREY'S TR.
The evening prayer is used to fix the time. In Italy they say: _I willsee you an hour before, or an hour after the Ave Maria_: and thedifferent periods of the day and of the night, are thus religiouslydesignated. Oswald enjoyed the admirable spectacle of the sun whichtowards the evening descends slowly in the midst of the ruins, andappears for a moment submitted to the same destiny as the works of man.Oswald felt all his habitual thoughts revive within him. Corinne herselfwas too charming, and promised too much happiness to occupy his mind atthis moment. He sought the spirit of his father in the clouds, where theforce of imagination traced his celestial form, and made him hope toreceive from heaven some pure and beneficent breath, as the benedictionof his sainted parent.