[Footnote L:  Psalm xlviii. 8.]

[Footnote M:  Song of Solomon, ii. 7.]

Meanwhile the report of the wonderful discovery spread through Rome, and caused general excitement and emotion.  The Trasteverini, with whom Cecilia had always been a favorite saint, were filled with joy, with piety, and superstition.  Crowds continually pressed to the church, and so great was the ardor of worshippers, that the Swiss guards of the court were needed to preserve order.  Lamps were kept constantly burning around the coffin, which was set near a grating in the wall between the church and convent, so as to be visible to the devout.  “There was no need of burning perfumes and incense near the sacred body, for a sweetest odor breathed out from it, like that of roses and lilies.”

Sfondrati, desirous to preserve for future generations a memorial likeness of the Saint, ordered the sculptor Stefano Maderno to make a statue which should represent the body of Cecilia as it was found lying in the cypress chest.  Maderno was then a youth of twenty-three years.  Sculpture at this time in Rome had fallen into a miserable condition of degraded conventionalism and extravagance.  But Maderno was touched with the contagion of the religious enthusiasm of the moment, and his work is full of simple dignity, noble grace, and tender beauty.  No other work of the time is to be compared with it.  It is a memorial not only of the loveliness of the Saint, but of the self-forgetful religious fervor of the artist, at a period when every divine impulse seemed to be absent from the common productions of Art.  Rome has no other statue of such sacred charm, none more inspired with Christian feeling.  It lies in front of the high altar, disfigured by a silver crown and a costly necklace, the offerings of vulgar and pretentious adoration; but even thus it is at once a proof and prophecy of what Art is to accomplish under the influence of the Christian spirit.  The inscription that Sfondrati placed before the statue still exists.  It is as follows:  “Behold the image of the most holy virgin Cecilia; whom I, Paul, Cardinal of the Title of St. Cecilia, saw lying perfect in her sepulchre; which I have caused to be made in this marble, in the very position of the body, for you.”

The twenty-second of November arrived.  The Pope had recovered from his gout.  The church was splendidly decorated.  A solemn procession, illustrated by the presence of all the great dignitaries of the Church, of the ambassadors of foreign states, and the nobles of Rome, advanced up the nave.  Clement intoned the Mass.  Then proceeding to the cypress chest, it was lifted by four cardinals, and carried to the vault under the altar, while the choir chanted the anthem, O beata Coecilia, quoe Almachium superasti, Tiburtium et Valerianum ad martyrii coronam vocasti! The old coffin, undisturbed, was placed in a silver case; the last service was performed, and the body of the virgin was once more laid away to rest.