meet and intersect with tenfold confusion; but countless as are the galleries still open, the mouths of many more are closed to avoid danger. These chapels cannot fail deeply to impress the imagination as being the very sanctum sanctorum of the early martyrs, where they drank of that cup and tasted that immortal food which alone sustained frail mortality under the torments awaiting them. They are called "Monumentum arcuatum" from the arch over the tomb, leaving the flat portion of the slab at liberty for the celebration of the sacramental mysteries. Here, too, were held the "Agapæ," or love-feasts-not to be confounded, however, with the holier rite which Protestants accuse Catholics of having subsequently permitted to degenerate into masses for the dead-to be celebrated over, or near, their mortal remains. These were the days of the Church's humiliation, when, sharing the human nature of her Divine Master, she was predestined to be born in the flesh, and to begin her career in infinite nothingness. At this early period, according to the "Liber Pontificalis," the holy utensils for the celebration of the eucharist were of glass. The sole treasure possessed by the infant Church was bestowed by a Christian-a Christian senator, father of those holy virgins SS. Prassede and Pudenziana, whose names are deservedly honoured by the Church. This senator's

estate, and that of the Christian widow Lucina, formed the nucleus of the ecclesiastical possessions.

As I penetrated with the monk deeper and deeper into this mysterious region, I again felt alarmed at the solitude of my situation; my fears even prompted me to doubt his knowledge of the intricacies in which we were involved. But he soon silenced my apprehensions by his calm reply, "Non abbia paura, signora. For ten years I have lived here, more below than above the ground. I know every turn, every step so well, I could walk it in my sleep." "But," said I, seeing the taper flickering and waning ominously under the currents of damp air, "suppose our lights go out ?" "Non importa," replied he; "I could take you out safely without them." After this assurance I ceased to fear, and again abandoned myself to the strange impressions created by the consecrated gloom. The atmosphere in the catacombs is warm and pleasant, though somewhat close. I only perceived a feeling of damp when we descended to the fourth, or lowest story, and then but slightly. I saw many open graves containing what once were bones, but which, when exposed to the air, literally crumbled into a handful of dust. I also saw many unopened tombs. When an inscription or other outward indication invites curiosity, and the sepulchre is opened, within is found nothing but dust,

representing by its position the form of a human body. No indication remains of the bones, and even this faint evidence of the human form vanishes at the slightest breath or the gentlest touch. Sometimes a few bones remain, and it is not rare to find a sword or some other instrument indicative of martyrdom. Thus did the savage nations of the North place armour or portions of rich spoils in the tombs of their chiefs. But the lamp and the ampolle, or vessel filled with blood, are the clearest and most undeniable evidences of the martyr's resting-place; evidences, too, the most adapted to heighten the zeal and increase the faith of the living believers who behold them.

I was particularly interested in one chapel, where that most holy man, San Filippo Neri, justly called the Apostle of Rome, the founder of the Oratorians, had, during a period of ten years, constantly slept. San Carlo Borromeo, the great Milanese saint, another brilliant example of devoted charity and holiness, is also said to have passed many nights in these sacred solitudes. As we retraced our steps, the tomb of St. Cecilia was pointed out to me; the body has been removed into her church in the Trastevere, which I have already described; but the flat stone which enclosed it, engraven with her name and the par

ticulars of her cruel death, still remains beside the open tomb, offering many suggestive recollections to those acquainted with her history. After threading mazy windings utterly confusing, we at last emerged at the foot of the stair leading into the church, beside the tomb of San Sebastiano, whose remains, when found here, were removed into the church above. Would that I could impress my readers with the solemn awe, the overwhelming feelings that visited my soul while wandering among the holy dead! At all events, my visit to the catacombs will stand forth, as I felt it, an epoch in my life-an event never to be forgotten!

V.

The Adoration-The Lateran-Mass of the Resurrection-Trinità dei Pellegrini-Two Anecdotes-The Environs of Rome-Rocca di Papa-Maria-Home Scenes.

I

NOW resume my account of the Easter ceremonies. All Rome mourns to-day, as mourned the Virgin before the cross of Calvary. It is Good Friday, and an awful gloom hangs over the city. Every one looks sad and melancholy; an incessant tolling of bells strikes the ear; the churches are filled with worshippers, who kneel before the denuded altars and darkened shrines with every outward semblance of sorrow and repentance. "Assume a virtue if you have it not," says Hamlet. At least the very sight is edifying, as bringing forcibly to one's mind the solemn anniversary in which all Christians join.

During the mass in the Sistine Chapel, the Pope, discarding his crimson slippers and divesting himself of his cope and mitre, descends from his throne, and advances towards the crucifix on the altar, which is veiled in black. Three times he bows in adoration before the symbolic image of the Redeemer's passion;