Catholic narrators know perhaps too much of what goes on behind the
scenes to relish calling too close an attention to the apparent
proprieties of Rome. Be the cause what it may, the moral aspect of the
Papal city seems to me to be but little dwelt upon, and yet on many
accounts it is a very curious one.
As far as Sabbatarianism is concerned, Rome is the Glasgow of Italy. All
shops, except druggists', tobacconists', and places of refreshment, are
hermetically closed on Sundays. Even the barbers have to close at half-
past ten in the morning under a heavy fine, and during the Sundays in
Lent cafes and eating-houses are shut throughout the afternoon, because
the waiters are supposed to go to catechism. The English reading-rooms
are locked up; there is no delivery of letters, and no mails go out. A
French band plays on the Pincian at sunset, and the Borghese gardens are
thrown open; but these, till evening, are the only public amusements. At
night, it is true, the theatres are open, but then in Roman Catholic
countries, Sunday evening is universally accounted a feast. To make up
for this, the theatres are closed on every Friday in the year, as they
are too throughout Lent and Advent; and once a week or more there is sure
to be a Saint's day as well, on which shops and all are closed, to the
great trial of a traveller's patience.
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