Chapter ii.
The desire of studying and becoming acquainted with the Roman religion,determined Lord Nelville to seek an opportunity of hearing some of thosepreachers who make the churches of this city resound with theireloquence during Lent. He reckoned the days that were to divide him fromCorinne, and during her absence, he wished to see nothing thatappertained to the fine arts; nothing that derived its charm from theimagination. He could not support the emotion of pleasure produced bythe masterpieces of art when he was not with Corinne; he was onlyreconciled to happiness when she was the cause of it. Poetry, painting,music, all that embellishes life by vague hopes, was painful to him outof her presence.
It is in the evening, with lights half extinguished, that the Romanpreachers deliver their sermons in Holy Week. All the women are thenclad in black, in remembrance of the death of Jesus Christ, and there issomething very moving in this anniversary mourning, which has been sooften renewed during a lapse of ages. It is therefore impossible toenter without genuine emotion those beautiful churches, where the tombsso fitly dispose the soul for prayer; but this emotion is generallydestroyed in a few moments by the preacher.
His pulpit is a fairly long gallery, which he traverses from one end tothe other with as much agitation as regularity. He never fails to setout at the beginning of a phrase and to return at the end, like themotion of a pendulum; nevertheless he uses so much action, and hismanner is so vehement, that one would suppose him capable of forgettingeverything. But it is, to use the expression, a kind of systematic furythat animates the orator, such as is frequently to be met with in Italy,where the vivacity of external action often indicates no more than asuperficial emotion. A crucifix is suspended at the extremity of thepulpit; the preacher unties it, kisses it, presses it against his heart,and then restores it to its place with the greatest coolness, when thepathetic period is concluded. There is a means of producing effect whichthe ordinary preachers frequently have recourse to, namely, the squarecap they wear on their head, which they take off, and put on again withinconceivable rapidity. One of them imputed to Voltaire, andparticularly to Rousseau, the irreligion of the age. He threw his capinto the middle of the pulpit, charging it to represent Jean Jacques,and in this quality he harangued it, saying; "_Well, philosopher ofGeneva, what have you to object to my arguments_?" He was silent forsome minutes as if he waited for a reply--the cap made no answer: hethen put it upon his head again and finished the conversation in thesewords: "_now that you are convinced I shall say no more_."
These whimsical scenes are often repeated among the Roman preachers; forreal talent in this department is here very scarce. Religion isrespected in Italy as an omnipotent law; it captivates the imaginationby its forms and ceremonies, but moral tenets are less attended to inthe pulpit than dogmas of faith, which do not penetrate the heart withreligious sentiments. Thus the eloquence of the pulpit, as well asseveral other branches of literature, is absolutely abandoned to commonideas, which neither paint nor express any thing. A new thought wouldcause almost a panic in those minds at once so indolent and so full ofardour that they need the calm of uniformity, which they love because itoffers repose to their thoughts. The ideas and phraseology of theirsermons are confined to a sort of etiquette. They follow almost in aregular sequence, and this order would be disturbed if the orator,speaking from himself, were to seek in his own mind what he should say.The Christian philosophy, whose aim is to discover the analogy betweenreligion and human nature, is as little known to the Italian preachersas any other kind of philosophy. To think upon matters of religion wouldscandalise them as much as to think against it; so much are theyaccustomed to move in a beaten track.
The worship of the Blessed Virgin is particularly dear to the Italians,and to every other nation of the south; it seems in some manner unitedwith all that is most pure and tender in the affection we feel forwoman. But the same exaggerated figures of rhetoric are found in whatthe preachers say upon this subject; and it is impossible to conceivewhy their gestures do not turn all that is most serious into mockery.Hardly ever in Italy do we meet in the august function of the pulpit,with a true accent or a natural expression.
Oswald, weary of the most tiresome of all monotony--that of affectedvehemence, went to the Coliseum, to hear the Capuchin who was to preachthere in the open air, at the foot of one of those altars which markout, within the enclosure, what is called _the Stations of the Cross_.What can offer a more noble subject of eloquence than the aspect of thismonument, of this amphitheatre, where the martyrs have succeeded to thegladiators! But nothing of this kind must be expected from the poorCapuchin, who, of the history of mankind, knows no more than that of hisown life. Nevertheless, if we could be insensible to the badness of hisdiscourse, we should feel ourselves moved by the different objects thatsurround him. The greater part of his auditors are of the confraternityof the _Camaldoli_; they are clad during their religious exercises in asort of grey robe, which entirely covers the head and the whole body,with two little holes for the eyes. It is thus that the spirits of thedead might be represented. These men, who are thus concealed beneaththeir vestments, prostrate themselves on the earth and strike theirbreasts. When the preacher throws himself on his knees crying for _mercyand pity_, the congregation throw themselves on their knees also, andrepeat this same cry, which dies away beneath the ancient porticoes ofthe Coliseum. It is impossible at this moment not to feel the mostreligious emotion; this appeal from earthly misery to celestial good,penetrates to the inmost sanctuary of the soul. Oswald started when allthe audience fell on their knees; he remained standing, not to join in aworship foreign to his own; but it was painful to him that he could notassociate publicly with mortals of any description, who prostratedthemselves before God. Alas! is there an invocation of heavenly pitythat is not equally suited to all men?
The people had been struck with the fine figure and foreign manners ofLord Nelville, but were by no means scandalized at his not kneelingdown. There are no people in the world more tolerant than the Romans;they are accustomed to visitors who come only to see and observe; andwhether by an effect of pride or of indolence, they never seek to instiltheir opinions into others. What is more extraordinary still, is, thatduring Holy Week particularly, there are many among them who inflictcorporal punishment upon themselves; and while they are performing thisflagellation, the church-doors are open, and they care not who enters.They are a people who do not trouble their heads about others; they donothing to be looked at; they refrain from nothing because they areobserved; they always proceed to their object, and seek their pleasurewithout suspecting that there is a sentiment called vanity, which has noobject, no pleasure, except the desire of being applauded.