. The marble faun; or, The romance of Monte Beni . ave, and towardsthe hundred golden lights that swarm before the highaltar. Seeing a woman, a priest, and a soldier kneelto kiss the toe of the brazen St. Peter, who protrudesit beyond his pedestal, for the purpose, polished brightwith former salutations, while a child stood on tiptoeto do the same, the glory of the church was darkenedbefore Hildas eyes. But again she went onward intoremoter regions. She turned into the right transept,and thence found her way to a shrine, in the extremecorner of the edifice, which is adorned with a mosaiccopy o
. The marble faun; or, The romance of Monte Beni . ave, and towardsthe hundred golden lights that swarm before the highaltar. Seeing a woman, a priest, and a soldier kneelto kiss the toe of the brazen St. Peter, who protrudesit beyond his pedestal, for the purpose, polished brightwith former salutations, while a child stood on tiptoeto do the same, the glory of the church was darkenedbefore Hildas eyes. But again she went onward intoremoter regions. She turned into the right transept,and thence found her way to a shrine, in the extremecorner of the edifice, which is adorned with a mosaiccopy of Guidos beautiful Archangel, treading on theprostrate fiend. This was one of the few pictures, which, in thesedreary days, had not faded nor detfriorated in Hildasestimation ; not that it was better than many in whichshe no longer took an interest; but the subtile deli-cacy of the jjainters genius was pecidiarly adapted toher character. She felt, while gazing at it, that theartist had done a great thing, not merely for the The Statue of St Peier. ALTARS AND INCENSE. 401 Church of Rome, but for the cause of Good. Themoral of the picture, the immoital youth and loveli-ness of Virtue, and its irresistible might against ugly-Evil, appealed as much to Puritans as Catholics. Suddenly, and as if it were done in a dream, Hildafound herself kneeling before the shrine, \mder theever-burning lamp that throws its rays upon the Arch-angels face. She laid her forehead on the marblesteps before the altar, and sobbed out a prayer; shehardly knew to whom, whether Michael, the Virgin,or the Father ; she hardly knew for what, save onlya vague longing, that thus the burden of her spiritmight be lightened a little. In an instant she snatched herself up, as it were,from her knees, all a-throb with the emotions whichwere struggling to force their way out of her heart bythe avenue that had so nearl}^ been opened for there was a strange sense of relief won by thatmomentary, passionate prayer
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