while thousands and thousands of devotees and others were pacing the marble area like pigmies rather than men, that I was able to compass the idea of St. Peter's as a temple fitting, in its magnificence, the noblest of all purposes, though degraded to the uses of a base and God-dishonouring idolatry.

Of the statuary, with which every part of St. Peter's abounds, it is impossible to speak in terms of adequate admiration. It seems as if marble breathed and became eloquent as well as graceful and majestic, under the hand of the sculptor-magician. I could fill this volume with details of such matters; but I must pause, and only mention one statue in particular, now designated as St. Peter, but once Jupiter. It is in bronze; and the hand which once wielded the thunderbolt, now grasps the key-an emblem of power not less terrible than the other. It is a fine, calm, dignified statue; and the right foot is actually worn by the frequent and fervent kissing of devotees, to which it has been and is continually subject.

When we reached St. Peter's on our first visit, the vesper service had begun; and certainly the music, consisting of human voices, without any instrumental accompaniment whatever, was of the richest kind; but alas! the spirit of devotion seemed not to influence the hearts of the assembled multitudes. After the service was concluded, a procession of priests of various orders was formed, from which certain individuals advanced and enacted the accustomed ceremony of washing the high altar with wine and water; next followed an exhibition of relics, such as the spear-head, with which the side of our adorable Redeemer is said to have been pierced; a fragment of the "true cross," &c.; and lastly came processions of pilgrims from all parts of the world. where popery prevails-carrying back our associations to the earlier ages of papal dominancy. The immense area of St. Peter's was thronged with visitors (amongst whom were many English), ecclesiastics of all grades and orders in their graceful and picturesque attire, and monks with their shaven crowns,

and the various habits of their order. It was altogether a most imposing scene; but the great drawback upon it all, was the melancholy feeling, that religion-the religion which saves souls and glorifies God, had no place in this splendid temple of a false system.

On the twenty-fifth of March, being Good Friday, we had the happiness of attending divine service at the English Chapel, which is situated just outside the Porta del Popolo, on the road to Florence. The sermon was solemn and profitable, from Luke xxiii. 48. It was no small privilege to be permitted there-in the very strong hold of popery, to hear the truth as it is in Jesus, simply and faithfully proclaimed. occupied a few hours afterwards in exploring some of the more distinguished churches in the city-splendid in decoration, as well as in architecture; as if human wealth were possessed only for one end-the giving lustre to the various appointments connected with a religion, such as that professed and taught by the Church of Rome.

We

Passing onwards in our perigrinations, we reached the Pantheon-the Pantheon of ancient Rome. Time had been, when perishing mortals received apotheosis there. But things are changed, yet scarcely for the better. The beautifully proportioned and graceful structure is now overrun with popery. Altars are erected at every part of the bold circle; and popish devotees were actively engaged in what they deemed religious exercises, before each. On the steps of one altar lay a large crucifix, with wax candles in abundance burning on either side. Many persons knelt and fervently kissed the feet of the wax caricature of our adorable Redeemer, and at the same time dropped a small pecuniary offering into a little dish, placed for that purpose near the object of adoration. Money and devotedness are inseparably connected in the Church of Rome.

The next object which fixed our attention was the Mons Capitolinus-the site, and part of the ancient structure of the

Capitol, around which memory congregates associations of the most heart-stirring kind. In front of the Capitol stands the undoubtedly ancient equestrian bronze statue of Marcus Aurelius, with other works of art less perfect. It is as fresh as ever, and as nobly graceful. From the tower of the Capitol we obtained a general view of the chief remains of Rome's greatness, together with the far-spreading Campagna, and the course of the muddy Tiber. Directly under us, and somewhat to the left, were the Mamertine prisons-those gloomy abodes of torture and death, in whose sad shadows the great Apostle of the Gentiles once lay captive and bound; and near them, rather more towards the south, the remains of the temple dedicated to Jupiter Tonans, consisting of three exquisitely beautiful Corinthian columns of marble; to the right of these the portico of the Temple of Concord, and to the left, the richly sculptured Arch of Septimus Severus. And there, too, lay the site of the Forum Romanum-all silent and desolate: no voice of rivetting cloquence is there— save that of other days which comes back on the breeze of fitful reminiscence. Carrying the eye onwards to the left, and passing the remains of heathen temples now transformed into churches, and bearing about them the trinkets and trappings of popery-the Colosseum, that noble monument which attests alike the greatness and the littleness of Rome, stands prominently in the field of vision. Viewed by daylight from the summit of the Capitol, or at night, when the rich flood of moonbeams is poured upon it-the Colosseum is indeed a wonderful object of interest. I contemplated it under both aspects, and the impression will not be easily obliterated. Time was, when the noble and the graceful, the royal and the gifted, the virgin and the matron, the poet and the philosopher found their places on those now crumbling seats capable of containing their thousands upon thousands; and gazing on the vast area formed for deadly conflict, there sought, in the sad excitement of the scene, for gratifications which the graceful and rational pursuits of life had failed to afford. Popery has set up her symbols in that scene of pagan heartlessness, only exchanging one kind of darkness for another. Penitential

stations now surround the area; a large crucifix occupies its centre; and indulgences are granted in proportion to the number of kisses which it receives from devotees. In the language of a forcible writer on this and other scenes of ancient and modern Rome, I only add-"Erected by a Pagan, purged of its inhuman rites by a Priest, and propped in old age by a Pope the Colosseum shadows out some faint emblematical picture of Rome itself. It was once the stormy theatre of bloody deeds-it is now the peaceful asylum of holy crosses. Part of it still stands erect or renovated; part of it totters over its base; but the greater part of it has vanished. Eloquent in its silence, populous in its solitude, majestic in its adversity, admired in its decay; the ruins of the Colosseum, like the remains of Rome, excite the curiosity of the antiquary, the ruminations of the moralist, the zeal of the Roman Catholic, the admiration of the architect, the sigh of the philanthropist, the sneer of the cynic, the humiliation of the philosopher, and the astonishment of all."

Glancing onwards from the Colosseum to the right, the eye rests upon the arch of Constantine, the first Christian Emperor of Rome-Christian, alas !-whose way to the imperial purple was tracked in blood. As a work of art it is still noble; as a memorial, still valuable: but in the eye of the true Christian it is a blot on the escutcheon of the true faith. Returning up the Via Sacra, or Via Triumphalis, we find it spanned by the Arch of Titus, sculptured with the story of Jerusalem's fall under the Romam arms, and with the symbolic furniture of the temple in bold relief, restored after a lapse of nearly eighteen centuries, by a "succcessor of St. Peter." Whatever may be the feelings with which we contemplate the Arch. of Titus and its sculptured trophies, and whatever the motive which led to its erection, whether pride, vanity, or ostentation-yet, there it stands, a record of prophecy fulfilled, and of the purposes of Jehovah accomplished in the destruction of Jerusalem, the sacking of the temple, and the final dispersion of God's ancient people; and there probably it will stand till the city of David shall again put on her glorious apparel,

22

ROME "HOLY WEEK."

and the now scattered multitudes of Israel shall say "Blessed be he that cometh in the name of the Lord."

To the right of the Arch of Titus, as seen from the Capitol, stands the Palatine Hill, crowned with the crumbling remains of those palaces in which the Cæsars moved the machinery of Rome's mighty and once irresistible empire. Not a trace remains of any thing, but of the perishableness of earthly greatness; and of this there is abundance. The ploughshare has passed over those scenes in which pride and luxury and cruelty held united sway; and now, rank overgrowth and squalid wretchedness are left to declare how the glory which was not after godliness has passed away like a dream. If kings and empires were disposed to learn-a rich volume of instruction is to be gathered from the Mons Palatinus, and the heart-humbling history which is embodied in the very name.

I feel I must not linger amidst these hoary remains of the most wonderful empire of the world, crowding as they do upon the memory, and each claiming a full and elaborate description. My business is rather with that which is now moving and acting in modern Rome.

During the "Holy Week," we availed ourselves of all opportunities for watching the ceremonies daily enacted in St. Peter's; and while marking the conduct of the thousands who thronged the area, even while the stated ceremonies were in progress, we could but notice the utter listlessness which pervaded them. It left an impression on the mind, that those who professed to account them sacred, were nevertheless entirely unaffected by them. Mere lightness and frivolity seemed to pervade all ranks, except perhaps a few ascetic monks, who paced stealthily along amidst crowds with whom they had but little sympathy. On one occasion, in the afternoon of Good Friday, turning from the general assemblage in the nave of the cathedral, we followed a large procession of ecclesiastics, of various orders, headed by a "Lord Cardinal," attended by his officers of state, into the northern side aisle,