w limits of his small domain, or
walks a little under the shade of the ilex trees, conversing with his
gardener or his architect. Yet those who love Italy love its
old-fashioned gardens, the shady walks, the deep box-hedges, the stiff
little summer-houses, the fragments of old statues at the corners, and
even the 'scherzi d'acqua,' which are little surprises of fine
water-jets that unexpectedly send a shower of spray into the face of the
unwary. There was always an element of childishness in the practical
jesting of the last century.

When all is seen, the tourist gets into his cab and drives down the
empty paved way by the wall of the library, along the basilica, and out
once more to the great square before the church. Or, if he be too strong
to be tired, he will get out at the steps and go in for a few minutes to
breathe the quiet air before going home, to get the impression of unity,
after the impressions of variety which he has received in the Vatican,
and to take away with him something of the peace which fills the
cathedral of Christendom.

[Illustration]

SAINT PETER'S

We have an involuntary reverence for all witnesses of history, be they
animate or inanimate, men, animals, or stones. The desire to leave a
work behind is in every man and man-child, from the strong leader who
plants his fame in a nation's marrow, and teaches unborn generations to
call him glorious, to the boy who carves his initials upon his desk at
school. Few women have it. Perhaps the wish to be remembered is what
fills that one ounce or so of matter by which modern statisticians
assert that the average man's brain is heavier than the average woman's.
The wish in ourselves makes us respect the satisfaction of it which the
few obtain. Probably few men have not secretly longed to see their names
set up for ages, like the 'Paulus V. Borghesius' over the middle of the
portico of Saint Peter's, high above the entrance to the most vast
monument of human hands in existence. Modesty commands the respect of a
few, but it is open success that appeals to almost all mankind. Pasquin
laughed:--

'Angulus est Petri, Pauli frons tota. Quid inde?
Non Petri, Paulo stat fabricata domus.'

Which means:--

'The corner is Peter's, but the whole front Paul's.
Not being Peter's, the house is built for Paul.'

The thing itself, the central cathedral of Christendom, is so enormous
that many who gaze on it for the first time do not ev