During this visit to Rome some remarkable religious meetings were conducted by Dr. A. N. Somerville, of Glasgow, who in other parts of Italy the same spring, held revivalistic Protestant services. Those at Rome occurred on a spot, to reach which many citizens had to cross a bridge with a toll bar on it. Notwithstanding, on the evening when we attended, I should think about eight hundred people were present. The preacher could not speak Italian, and what he said was translated into that language, by a native Protestant. Everything was skilfully managed, and the effect appeared on the whole, solemn and impressive. Congregations after the same methods had been previously gathered in Florence, where the addresses, according to report, had produced considerable impression. Sankey’s hymns, translated into Italian, were sung at Rome, with Sankey’s tunes; how far solid evangelical results followed I could not ascertain.
We made, at this time, two excursions which I must notice. One was very short: only as far as Ostia, where there are still some Roman remains. The present town is not worth notice, but the ancient city, Hare says in his “Days near Rome,” is like Pompeii. I cannot quite agree with him. The deep ruts of Roman chariot wheels; fragments here and there of Roman pottery, human bones, coloured marbles, and a few architectural relics, are of interest; but what attracted me to the spot was the memory of Augustine, who, in his “Confessions,” paints such a touching picture of his mother Monica’s illness and death. Thoughts of that interview, as related by the converted son, were the only charm of our visit, and the hour or two we were compelled to spend in the place, for the refreshment of our coachman and his horse, were most dreary. The long, long gossip going on between a priest and the mistress of the little farm, betokened the intense idleness and vulgarity of both,—typical, I fear, of the whole neighbourhood.
Another expedition we made was of a very different kind. We engaged a carriage to the charming haunts of Tivoli, where picturesque objects in the town and its vicinity, and the stupendous waterfall with manifold associations, clustering round the immediate neighbourhood, created memorable delight. Next day we drove to Subiaco, along an interesting road rich in memories of old Roman rural life. My daughter wrote in her journal:—