even more
than the usual breadth, standing astride on the Capitol. Entering by the
main doorway in the west, I passed along the side aisle, on my way to
the little chapel near the altar where the Bambino is kept. The wall
here was covered with little pictures in thousands, all in the homeliest
style of the art, and representing persons falling into the sea, or
tumbling over precipices, or ridden over by carts. These were votive
offerings from persons who had been in the situations represented, and
who had been saved by the special interposition of Mary. Arms, legs, and
heads of brass, and in some instances of silver, bore testimony to the
greater wealth or the greater devotion of others of the devotees.
Passing through a door on the left, at the eastern extremity of the
church, I entered the little chapel or side closet, in which the Bambino
is kept. Here two barefooted monks, with not more than the average dirt
on their persons, were in attendance, to show me the "god." They began
by lighting a few candles, though the sunlight was streaming in at the
casement. I was near asking the monks the same question which the
Protestant inhabitants of a Hungarian village one day put to their
Catholic neighbours, as they were marching in procession through their
streets,--"Is your god blind, that you burn candles to him at mid-day?"
The tapers lighted, one of the friars dropped on his knees, and fell to
praying with great vigour. I fear my deportment was not so edifying as
the place and circumstances required; for I could see that ever and anon
the monk cast side-long glances at me, as at a man who was scarce worthy
of so great a sight as was about to be shown him. The other monk,
drawing a key from under his cloak, threw open the doors of a sort of
cupboard that stood against the wall. The interior was fitted up not
unlike the stage of a theatre. A tall figure, covered with a brown
cloak, stood leaning on a staff in the foreground. By his side stood a
female, considerably younger, and attired in an elegant robe of green.
These two regarded with fixed looks a little cradle or casket at their
feet. The background stretched away into a hilly country, amid whose
knolls and dells were shepherds with their flocks. The figures were
Joseph and Mary, and the vista beyond was meant to represent the
vicinity of Bethlehem. Taking up the casket, the monk, with infinite
bowings and crossings, undid its swathings, and solemnly drew forth the
Ba