es special attention. Of one hundred
distinct parts, any one by itself would command your profoundest
admiration, but everything around and beyond it is no less excellent,
and you soon cease to wonder and remain to appreciate and enjoy.

I devoted most of the day to St. Peter's, seeing it under many different
aspects, but no other view of the interior is equal to that presented in
the stillness and comparative solitude of the early morning. The
presence of multitudes does not cloud your consciousness of its
immensity, for ten thousand persons occupy no considerable portion of
its area and might very easily be present yet wholly invisible to one
who stood just inside the entrance and looked searchingly through the
body of the edifice to find them; but there are usually very few seats,
and those for the privileged, so that hundreds are constantly moving
from place to place through the day, which distracts attention and mars
the feeling of repose and delighted awe which the naked structure is
calculated to inspire. Go very early some bright summer morning, if you
would see St. Peter's in its calm and stately grandeur.

I ascended to the roof, and thence to the summit of the dome, but, apart
from a profounder consciousness of the vastness and admirable
proportions of the edifice, this is of little worth. True, the entire
city and its suburbs lie clearly and fully beneath and around you; but
so they do from the tower of the Capitol. Views from commanding heights
are obtained in almost every city. The ascent, however, as far as the
roof, is easier than any other I ever found within a building. Instead
of stairs, here is a circular road, more like the ascent of a mountain
than a Church. One single view is obtained, however, which richly
compensates for the fatigue of the ascent. It is that from the interior
of the dome down into the body of the Church below. The Alps may present
grander, but I never expect to have another like this.

Here I had personal evidence of the mean, reckless selfishness wherewith
public edifices are regarded by too many, and the absolute necessity of
constant, omnipresent watchfulness to preserve them from wanton
dilapidation. Five or six French soldiers had been permitted to ascend
the dome just before I did, and came down nearly at the same time with
me. As I stood gazing down from this point into the church below, two of
these soldiers came in on their way down, and one of them, looking
around to