51

LIFE AND TIMES OF FREDERICK DOUGLASS 425

to me than being shown, as we were, under the dome of St. Peter's, the head
of St. Luke in a casket, a piece of the true cross, a lock of Virgin Mary's hair,
and the legbone of Lazarus; or any of the wonderful things in that line
palmed off on a credulous and superstitious people. In one of these churches
we were shown a great doll, covered with silks and jewels and all manner of
strange devices, and this wooden baby was solemnly credited with miracu-
lous power in healing the sick and averting many of the evils to which flesh
is heir. In the same church we were, with equal solemnity shown a print of
the devil's cloven foot, in the hard stone. I could but ask myself what the
devil could a devil be doing in such a holy place. I had some curiosity in
seeing devout people going up to the black statue of St. Peter-I was glad to
find him black. – I have no prejudice against his color – and kissing the old
fellow's big toe, one side of which has been nearly worn away by these
dernut and tender salutes to which it has been the cold subject. In seeing
these one may well ask himself, What will not men believe? Crowds of men
and women going up a stairway on their knees;– monks making ornaments
of dead men's bones; others refusing to wash themselves; and all in order to
secure the favor of God, give a degrading idea of man's relation to the
Infinite author of the Universe. But there is no reasoning with faith. It is
doubtless a great comfort to these people after all to have kissed the great toe
of the black image of the Apostle Peter and in having bruised their knees in
substituting their knees for feet in ascending a stairway, called the Scala
Santa. I felt in looking upon these religious shows in Rome, as the late
Benjamin Wade said he felt at a negro camp meeting where there were much
howling, shouting and jumping; "This is nothing to me, but it surely must be
something to them."

The Railway south from Rome, through the Campagna, gives a splendid
view of miles of Roman arches over which water was formerly brought to
the city. Few works better illustrate the spirit and power of the Roman people
than do these miles of masonry. Humanly speaking, there was nothing
requiring thought, skill, energy. and determination which these people could
not and did not do. The ride from Rome to Naples in winter is delightful– a
beautiful valley diversified by mountain peaks on either side, capped with
snow, is a perpetual entertainment to the eye of the traveller. Only a few
hours' ride and behold a scene of startling sublimity. It is a broad column of
white vapor from the summit of Vesuvius, slowly and majestically rising
against the blue Italian sky and before gentle northern and land breezes,
grandly moving off to sea, a thing of wonder. For more than seventeen hun-
dred years this vapor, sometimes mingled with the lurid light of red hot lava,