prototypes were like their modern representatives, the spread of the gospel at first was by far the mightiest miracle the world ever saw. On one you find the unmistakeable marks of sordid appetite and self-indulgence: on another, low intrigue has imprinted the most sinister lines: a third is a mere man of the world;-his prayers and vigils have been kept at the shrine of pleasure. But along with much that is sordid and worldly, there are astute and far-seeing minds in the sacred college; and foremost in this class stands Antonelli. His pale face, and clear, cold, penetrating eye, reveal the presiding genius of the Papacy. He is the Prime Minister of the Pope; and though his is not the brow on which the tiara sits, he is the real head of the system. From his station on the Seven Hills his keen eye watches and directs every movement in the papal world. Those mighty projects which the Papacy is endeavouring to realize in every part of the earth have their first birth in his fertile and daring brain.

His family are well known at Rome, and some of his ancestors were men of renown in their own way. His uncle was the most famous Italian brigand of modern times, and his exploits are still celebrated in the popular songs of the country. The occupation of the yet more celebrated nephew is not so dissimilar after all; for what is Antonelli, but the leader of a crew of bandits, whose hordes scour Europe, arrayed in sacerdotal garb, and in the name of heaven rob men of their wealth, their liberty, and their souls, and carry back their booty to their den on the Seven Hills.

Next come the Bishops and Priests. These men are the agents and spies of the cardinals, as the cardinals of the Pope. The time which they are required to devote to spiritual, or rather, I should say, to official duties, is small indeed. To study the Scriptures, visit the sick, instruct the people, which

›rm the proper work of ministers of the gospel, are duties algether unknown in Rome. There, as I have said, they conert and save men, not by preaching, but by giving them afers to swallow. This is a short and simple process; and hen a priest has gone through this pantomime once, he can peat it all his days after without the slightest preparation. heir time and energies, therefore, can be almost wholly deɔted to other work. And what is that work? It is, in short, propagate their superstition, and rivet the fetters of the riesthood upon the population. The bishops and priests anage the upper classes; and for the lower grades of Roans there are friars and monks of every order and of every lour. The city swarms with these men.

The frogs and lice certainly not more

Egypt were not more numerous, and lthy. Unwashed and uncombed, they enter, with their ndalled feet and shaven crowns, every dwelling, and penetrate to every bosom. You see them in the wine-shops; you see em mixing with the populace on the street; while others, ith wallets on their backs, may be seen climbing the stairs of e houses, for the double purpose of begging for the poor, but reality for their own paunch, and of retailing the latest iracle, or some thousand times told legend. Thus the darkess is carried down to the very bottom of society; and while e Pope and his cardinals sit at the summit in gilded glory, e monk, in robe of serge and girdle of rope, is busied at the ottom; and, to support their individual and united action, e priests have two powerful institutions at Rome, like foot ■ldiers advancing under cover of artillery,-the Confessional nd the Inquisition.

But emphatically the order at Rome is the Jesuits. They -e the prime movers in all that is done there, as well as the eenest supporters of the Papacy in all parts of the world.

They are the most indefatigable confessors, as well as the most eloquent preachers. Their regularity is like that of nature itself. Every hour of the day has its duty; and their motions are as punctual as that of the heavenly bodies. Duly every morning as the clock strikes five, they are at the altar or in the confessional. Their head-quarters are at the Gesu. I shall suppose that the reader is passing through the long corridor of that magnificent church. Every three or four paces is a door, leading to a small apartment, which is occupied by a father. Outside each door hangs a sheet of paper, on which the father puts a list of the employments for the day. When he goes out, he sticks a pin opposite the piece of business which has called him away, so that, should any one call and find him not within, he can know at once, by consulting the card, how the father is occupied, and whether he is accessible at that particular time. Among the items of business which usually appear on the card, "conference" is now one of very frequent occurrence, which indicates no inconsiderable amount of business, having reference to foreign parts, at present on the hands of the order. I shall suppose that the reader is passing along the Corso. Has he marked that tall thin man who has just passed him,

"Walking in beauty like the night?""

There is an air of tidiness in his dress, and of comparative cleanliness on his person. He wears a small round cap, with three corners; or, if a hat, one of large brim. Neither cowl nor scapular fetters his motions; a plain black gown, not unlike a frock-coat, envelopes his person. How softly his footsteps fall! You scarce hear their sound as he glides past you. His face, how unruffled! As the lake, when the winds are asleep, hides under a moveless surface, resplendent as a sheet of gold, the dark caverns at its bottom, so does this calm, im

passable face the workings of the heart beneath. This man olds in his hands the threads of a conspiracy which is ex▪loding at that moment, mayhap in China, or in the Pacific, r in Peru, or in London.

He is at Rome at present, and appears in his proper form nd dress as a Jesuit. But that man can change his country, he an change his tongue, and, Proteus-like, multiply his shapes mong mankind. Next year that man whom you now meet n the streets of Rome may be in Scotland in the humble guise f a pedlar, vending at once his earthly and his spiritual wares. Or he may be in England, acting as tutor in some noble family, r in the humbler capacity of body-servant to a gentleman, or, may be, filling a pulpit in the Church of England. He may e a Protestant schoolmaster in America, a dictator in Parauay, a travelling companion in France and Switzerland, a Liberal or a Conservative-as best suits his purpose-in Gerany, a Brahmin in India, a Mandarin in China. He can e anything and everything,—a believer in every creed, and a orshipper of every god,-to serve his Church. Rome has undreds of thousands of such men spread over all the counies of the world. With the ring of Gyges, they walk to and o over the earth, seeing all, yet themselves unseen. They an unlock the cabinets of statesmen, and enter unobserved e closets of princes. They can take their seat in synods and ssemblies, and dive into the secrets of families. Their grand ork is to sow the seeds of heresies in Churches and of dissenons in States, that, when the harvest of strife and division fully matured, Rome may come in and reap the fruits.

le

A Roman House-Wretched Dwellings of Working-Classes-How Working Men spend their Leisure Hours-Roman mode of reckoning Time-Handicrafts and Trades in Rome-Meals-Breakfast, Dinner, &c.-Games-Amusements-Marriages-Deaths and Funerals-Wills tampered with-Popular regard to Omens-Superstitions connected with the Pope's Name-Terrors of the Priesthood-Weather, and Journey Homeward.

I SHALL now endeavour to bring before my readers, in a short chapter, the daily inner life of Rome. First of all, let us take a peep into a Roman dwelling. The mansions of the nobility and the houses of the wealthier classes are built on the plan of the ancient Romans. There is a portal in front, a paved court in the middle, a quadrangle enclosing it, with suites of apartments running all round, tier on tier, to perhaps four or five stories. The palaces want nothing but cleanliness to make them sumptuous. They are of marble, lofty in style, and chaste though ornate in design.

The pictures of the

* For much of the information contained in this chapter I am indebted to my intelligent friend Mr Stewart.