saw a loaf of bread, some burnt coffee, and, on a little shelf, a few books. The friars of this order wear a woolen habit, no stockings, vest, nor underclothing of any description. They eat little meat, and live by charity, and their reputation for sanctity is very high. They are of all ages, from the young man just entering life, to the old man in his dotage. Our guide said that, but for his wife, he should enter this monastery, and avowed his determination to do so when his wife should die. He seemed to have a most profound respect for these men; and when we left, he humbly turned and kissed the hand of the dirty, ignorant fellow who had led us about.

Many of these monks take ecclesiastical vows from indolence. Being unwilling to work, they enter some monastery, and spend their lives in begging. Indolence is written on their faces, and ignorance stares out in an idiotic look. Others enter in times of deep affliction, when the ties which bind them to earth are severed. They feel that earth has few joys for them; and, as their graves are not ready for them, they enter into these living tombs, and makes up honest social life. crime or want, and by the of life.

abjure society, and all that Others are forced here by various sins and miseries

We found the churches of Rome full. of images, statues, and paintings, some of them of very great value. Immense sums of money have been spent by successive popes upon religious edifices. We rode out, one day, to San Paolo. The ancient church was built many centuries ago, over the spot where St. Paul was supposed to have been buried, and had scarcely a superior in the world. In 1824, it was consumed, during some repairs which were being made upon it. The

work of rebuilding was immediately commenced, and for years has been in progress, requiring millions of money. When this church is completed, it will be a most magnificent structure. Along the nave rise forty pillars of gray granite, while waiting to decorate the altar are two Egyptian alabaster pillars, of colossal size and extraordinary beauty. In the walls are to be set two hundred and fifty-eight portraits of the popes, from Peter downward. They are transferred from canvas to mosaic, and are about six feet in diameter. Though years have already been consumed upon this building, years more must elapse before it will be complete. Millions have been spent here, and millions must be lavished ere the dedication can take place.

And what renders this waste more censurable is the fact that the church is out some distance from the city, on the Campagna, where even the monks cannot live but a part of the year, and where the edifice can be of no benefit to the suffering people. On our return, our guide stopped and said, pointing to a tree by the wayside, "Under that tree, Peter and Paul parted a while before the latter was put to death. 'Go,' said Paul, 'to Rome

God!""

go, founder of the church and friend of

From the Church of St. Sebastian, a passage way leads down into the catacombs of Rome. They are irregular, unlighted, winding passages, extending far under the houses and churches of the city. They yet contain the bones of the dead, and were doubtless the abodes of Christians during the times of cruel persecutions.

Hour after hour, day after day, and indeed month after month, may the stranger wander about among the churches of Rome, finding some new object of interest

and study wherever he goes. Beautiful statuary, finely finished paintings, and other evidences of taste and art, draw more admiration than the hypocritical service which is chanted at the altar.

From the churches we proceed to the Vatican, the residence of the pope, where is treasured up the lore of centuries, and which is the most wonderful palace in the world. It stands in a fine position on the left of St. Peter's, and communicates with the Castle of St. Angelo by a covered gallery. It has eight grand staircases; two hundred of less size and elegance; twenty courts, and four thousand four hundred and twenty-two fine apartments. These apartments are filled with every thing valuable in the fine arts, and every thing beautiful in works of taste. Here the galleries extend for miles, the building itself being one thousand one hundred and fifty-one feet long, and seven hundred and sixty-seven feet wide. Here dead marble speaks with a living voice, and silent painting and lifeless canvas teach eloquent lessons. It would be useless to enter into any detail of the works of art which are stored in this noble edifice. Here, among the paintings, is the great masterpiece of Raphael, the Transfiguration, which has formed an object of just admiration from the day of its execution, and which, after his decease, was hung over his corpse, and worshiped by bowing, superstitious throngs. Other works by the same hand attest the perfection of his art. The Conversion of St. Jerome, by the talented Domenichino, like a living scene looks down from the wall, and whoever gazes upon it breaks out in admiration. The Crucifixion of St. Peter, by Guido, is so true to nature and so just to art that tears of sympathy steal unbidden down the cheek, while you almost believe that the dead canvas

feels the dreadful pain. Hundreds of others, challenging your warmest approbation, before which crowds gather, and which inferior artists are endeavoring to copy, assure you that months could be spent here in most interesting pursuits.

Other doors open, and you stand before the famous Laocoon, copies of which are found all over the world; the world-renowned Apollo Belvedere; the Sleeping Cleopatra; the Belvedere Antonius, before which stood one of the greatest artists' of the world, declaring that he derived from it all the conceptions of the beautiful which he ever had; the Torso Belvedere, the work of a noble Athenian, and admired by artists and emperors; and all the endless display of statuary, wrought by men of all climes and ages, from a broken figure to a perfect form. You pass from gallery to gallery, now amid the productions of the sea, and then amid the trophies gathered from the air; now wandering amid the relics of Egypt, and anon admiring the classic representations of Greece.

These public apartments of the pope's palace are shown, without a fee, to all who choose to examine them. The library is not large, but well selected, and unlike any public library I ever saw, the books being concealed from the gaze of the passer by by wooden doors, profusely ornamented. There are some choice volumes here, and many manuscripts of great value.

The pope has his private apartments, and on the day of our visit he had held a consultation with the cardinals, whom we saw driving away in great state, gazed after and admired by the people, ay, and hated too.

Here at the Vatican is also the Sistine Chapel, or

'Domenichino.

2 Apollonius.

the private sanctuary of the pope. It is a dingy hall, and celebrated mostly for the great painting of the Last Judgment, by Michael Angelo. The painting, which is a noble conception and a glorious execution, is much defaced by time and the smoke of candles. It is sixty feet long and thirty broad. The dead are seen rising from their graves - the good and bad; the angels winging their way from the hights above, and sweeping to the depths beneath; the anguish of some and the joy of others; all stand out with striking effect. The great artist has borrowed his idea from the Scripture representations of the last day, and has made a picture worthy of his immortal genius.

The pope's chair of state is a plain affair, on a semicircular elevation, and we sat down in it without deriving any pontifical virtue from the act. In this chapel Pius IX. says mass for the living and vespers for the dead; here he blesses plumes and belts, hats and swords, and does a hundred other silly things

"Which children love and fools admire."

The Capitol, on the Capitoline Hill, is visited not only for the view from the tower, of which I have spoken, but for its galleries of painting and sculpture. The visitor passes up the hill by the old milestone of Vespasian, the bronze horse, from which, on festive occasions long agone, water ran from one nostril and wine from the other, and various other statues of merit and celebrity. The Capitol consists of three large buildings, forming a square open on the front, and filled with works of art and offices for men of honor and labor. As the stranger wanders through these halls, he will note the Bronze Wolf, —

GG