"_Sanctis_ Roma, suis jam tollere gestit ad astra,
Et cupit ad _superos_ evehere usque deos."
MILTON'S _Sonnets_.
To receive Beatification, which is the first step towards
Canonisation, and may in time lead to a fellowship with the
saints,--to be pronounced "blessed" by him who arrogates to himself
the title of _Holy_, and must therefore know the full value of the
dignity he confers--_sic laudari a laudato_, and that too in the
finest church in Christendom, before the eyes of a countless assembly
of all the nations of Europe,--is an honour indeed! No wonder, then,
that every promotion should be jealously canvassed, and that sometimes
the rumour of "unfairness," or "favouritism," should be heard among
the people, when each fresh brevet comes out. For example--"Who's this
third St Anthony? Are not two enough in the Calendar? The great St
Antonio, and he of the pig!--(_del porco_,)--another will only create
confusion;" or else, "Surely the _Beata_ _Ernestina_ has not been
long enough dead to have attained to such an 'odour of sanctity;'" or,
"Though the good Pasquale might deserve the title, the pious Teodoro's
miracles are as well attested, and much more numerous, and should
therefore have been first recognised." Of such sort are the comments
of the crowd. All this grumbling, however, is at an end, when once the
_Festa_ comes round; the Church, by the brilliancy of her exhibitions,
wins over her discontented children, and the installation is sure to
be well attended. Sometimes the saint expectant stops short of true
canonisation; and, having gained one step, finds himself like a yellow
admiral, placed on the shelf without chance of further promotion.
(This by the way.) No one can say precisely what entitles the dead to
these honours. Large bequests alone are not always sufficient; witness
the rejection of a certain distinguished Begum, who left much of her
enormous wealth to the Pope, with a well-known view to this
distinction. Some imagine that eminent piety is a necessary condition;
but no! there is very little talk of religion. It seems chiefly to be
the attestation of a sufficient number of miracles at a tomb, which
confers the title of Beatus on its tenant, and converts it into a
shrine, sure ever after to be profusely hung with glass eyes, wax
fœtuses, silver hearts, discarded crutches, votive shipwrecks, &c.,
&c.,[K] in token of cures and deliverances which have emanated from
it. Next to miracles, perhaps, we may reckon _dates_--_seniores
priores_--first buried, first beatified, and no superannuation here:
on the contrary, holiness, like many other good things, requires time
to ripen its virtues and to bring it to perfection; and it is a rule
of the Church that chemistry must disintegrate the mortal before she
can build up the saint. Thus it happens of two candidates of equal
merit; he whose dissolution took place half a century or so before his
rival, obtains the preference. The first steps are taken by the
lawyers; one being retained to advance the merits of the aspirant
saint, another to asperse them if possible. Should the election be
contested, much special pleading is then resorted to. Both sides are
paid by the Church, but he who opposes the nomination is termed the
_devil's_ counsel. This title, however, is a legal or rather a
theological fiction; the miracles alleged to have been performed by
the defunct being only more triumphantly established and set off by
the apparent disposition of the rival pleader to deny their reality;
who, after a proper show of resistance and incredulity, allows himself
to be foiled. This is indeed beating Satan with his own weapons; but
the advocates of saints belong to that party who
"E'en to the Devil himself will go,
If they have motive thereunto;
And think, as there is war between
The Devil and them, it is no sin
If they by subtle stratagem
Make use of him as he does them."
[K] It is singular to observe how the "_votiva paries_," in the
churches of Papal Rome, are hung with similar offerings to those which
formerly ornamented her temples in Pagan times. We possess several of
these ancient offerings; _inter alia_--a _uterus_ and a _mamma_, in
_terra cotta_, from the Temple of _Elvina Ceres_ at Aquinum, and an
_abortion_, in lead, from the same source.
We had never witnessed a Beatification: so, when the Pope, in his
character of umpire, had pronounced his fiat in favour of "good sister
Frances," and all that remained to be done was the church ceremonial
necessary to admit her to piety's peerage, we procured one of the many
thousand tickets printed for the occasion, and followed the crowd to
St Peter's. Here all was prepared to give due effect to the scene: the
interior was studiously darkened, that the rich upholstery might be
set off by a grove of countless wax lights, thick and tall as young
pine trees. The workmen, after a whole fortnight of bustle and
activity, had done their part well. Curtains had been hung and carpets
spread; organs wheeled up towards the throne of St Peter; and a whole
gallery of villanously painted historical pictures, blasphemous and
absurd, were suspended round, representing the miracles for which the
new "beatified" was to receive her first degree towards sainthood;
and showing amongst other wonders, how in one case her blood, in
another her image, restored a blind man to sight, and so completely
cured the palsy of one Salvator di Sales, that he is dancing a
hornpipe on his recovery, while a priest is looking on approvingly. We
were too early for the ceremony; and after curiously scanning these
preparations, our attention was attracted to a group near, eagerly
listening to the recital of a bare-footed Capuchin. On approaching, we
found that he was discoursing on the virtues of a picture of the
Virgin, known by the name of _Sta Maria del Pianto_, a fresco daub,
painted in a very dirty back street. He was affirming that it had
lately taken to _winking_, and had also been seen to shed tears over
the body of a man recently found murdered under the lamp. "Who saw her
weep?" inquired one of his hearers. "Do you doubt the miracle, my
son?" said the friar. "No indeed, father," returned he; "but why did
she not call out to the assassin; and what is the use of weeping over
a dead man?" "It was owing to the gentleness of her sex," said
another, who appeared interested in proclaiming the notoriety of the
shrine: he proceeded, therefore, to inform the attentive listeners,
that he had the face newly painted some months back, since which
operation there was no end to the miracles performed by it. Several
persons round hereon testified to having heard repeatedly of these
wonders. "Ah!" said a sceptical craftsman, "I dare say you live in
another quarter of the city, for it is well known that those at a
distance see these things more clearly than the neighbours, unless,
like our friend here," nodding to the restorer of the shrine, "they
hope to attract customers to the shop by drawing votaries to the
shrine." "I don't believe a word of it," said we, taking part in the
colloquy. "_Caro lei_--who can help that? we can only pity your
unbelief," said the good-humoured Capuchin, offering us, however, a
pinch out of his snuff-box. "_You_," continued he, "should call to
mind '_in dubiis fides_;' and _we_, in compassion to your being a
heretic, will remember '_in omnibus caritas_.'" We accepted the good
man's courtesy, albeit no snuff-taker; and he was resuming the
interrupted narrative, when a stir among the crowd outside announced
the near approach of the procession, and every one hastened to secure
a good seat. Presently the Swiss guards enter, the choristers take
their places, in come priests, bishops, cardinals, all sumptuously
arrayed; at length the Pope himself arrives and assumes his throne.
Mass commences.
And here the reader doubtless expects, if not a full description of
the ceremony of canonisation, at least an accurate detail of the
various steps of the process by which it was effected; but, as we have
stated above, the incubation had been completed six weeks before in a
private Eccaleiobion, and the pageant to-day was merely to give
publicity to the metamorphosis--to read in, and to enrol among the
saints the Beata Francesca. As we cannot give a particular account of
the _funzione_, we give a general one of all masses:--
High mass! The stall'd and banner'd quire--
White canons--priests in quaint attire--
The unfamiliar prayer:
The fumes that practised hands dispense,
The tinkling bells, the jingling pence,
The tax'd but welcome chair:
The beams from ruby panes that glow,
Of rhythmal chant the ebb and flow:
The organ, that from boundless stores
Its trembling inspiration pours
O'er all the sons of care;
Now joyous as the festal lyre,
When torch and song and wine inspire;
Now tender as Cremona's shell,
When hush'd orchestras own the spell
And watch the ductile bow--
Now rolling from its thunder-cloud,
Dark peals o'er that retiring crowd,
And now has ceased to blow.