and faded silk; and the shrouding of
those pompous marbles, of all the superb dazzling ornamentation of the
church bespoke a very singular taste, a tawdry affectation of pomposity,
extremely wretched in its effect. However, he was yet more amazed on
seeing that even the statue of St. Peter was clad, costumed like a living
pope in sumptuous pontifical vestments, with a tiara on its metal head.
He had never imagined that people could garment statues either for their
glory or for the pleasure of the eyes, and the result seemed to him
disastrous.

The Pope was to say mass at the papal altar of the Confession, the high
altar which stands under the dome. On a platform at the entrance of the
left-hand transept was the throne on which he would afterwards take his
place. Then, on either side of the nave, tribunes had been erected for
the choristers of the Sixtine Chapel, the Corps Diplomatique, the Knights
of Malta, the Roman nobility, and other guests of various kinds. And,
finally, in the centre, before the altar, there were three rows of
benches covered with red rugs, the first for the cardinals and the other
two for the bishops and the prelates of the pontifical court. All the
rest of the congregation was to remain standing.

Ah! that huge concert-audience, those thirty, forty thousand believers
from here, there, and everywhere, inflamed with curiosity, passion, or
faith, bestirring themselves, jostling one another, rising on tip-toe to
see the better! The clamour of a human sea arose, the crowd was as gay
and familiar as if it had found itself in some heavenly theatre where it
was allowable for one to chat aloud and recreate oneself with the
spectacle of religious pomp! At first Pierre was thunderstruck, he who
only knew of nervous, silent kneeling in the depths of dim cathedrals,
who was not accustomed to that religion of light, whose brilliancy
transformed a religious celebration into a morning festivity. Around him,
in the same tribune as himself, were gentlemen in dress-coats and ladies
gowned in black, carrying glasses as in an opera-house. There were German
and English women, and numerous Americans, all more or less charming,
displaying the grace of thoughtless, chirruping birds. In the tribune of
the Roman nobility on the left he recognised Benedetta and Donna
Serafina, and there the simplicity of the regulation attire for ladies
was relieved by large lace veils rivalling one another in richness and
elegance. Then