Author Description

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1862 Excerpt: ...place of the gorgeous robes of the ecclesiastics, denote the approach of Holy Week. The longdrawn aisles are now full to overflowing with that weird chanting which one hears nowhere but in Rome at this solemn season: those voices, neither of men nor women, have a wild, morbid energy which, instead of soothing, seems to awaken strange yearning agonies, ghostly unquiet longings, and endless feverish, unrcstful cravings. Such music brings no peace. Yonder, on the glassy floor, at the foot of a crucifix, a poor mortal lies sobbing, and when the chanting ceases, he rises slowly and tottering, and we see in the wan face turning towards the dim light the well-remembered features of Father Francesco. Driven to despair by the wild, ungovernable force of his unfortunate passion, he had come to Rome to lay down the burden which he can no longer bear alone. He approaches a confessional where sits a cardinal; he kneels down with a despairing, confiding movement, and the churchman within inclining his ear to the grating, the confession begins. It would be worth our while to note the difference between the two faces, separated only by the thin grating of the confessional. On the inside, is a round, smoothly developed Italian head, with that rather tumid outline of features which one often sees in a Roman in middle life, when easy living and habits of sensual indulgence begin to broaden the clear-cut lines of youth. He performs the duties of his office with an unctuous grace, looking puzzled and half contemptuous at the revelations which come through the grating in hoarse whispers from those thin, trembling lips; for that penitent, who speaks with the sweat of anguish beaded on his brow, and a mortal pallor on his thin, worn cheeks, is putting questions which seem to the c...