state, of accommodating upwards of twenty thousand persons. It was delightful to view this ancient fabric, and to know that the purposes for which it was erected had long since passed away; that never again would the fierce conflict and the death-sigh of the gladiator be heard there no longer would the cruel torture of contending wild beasts awaken a thrill of bloodthirsty delight in assembled thousands, enveloped in the shades of pagan darkness. A vast moral change had been wrought, and the record of its triumph is written by time on the crumbling walls of this scene of suffering and of blood.

From Nismes we proceeded by way of Arles to Marseilles, catching distant and lovely glimpses of the Mediterranean with its deep blue waters, on which we hoped so soon to be launched on our way to new scenes of interest. It was with a fresh and stirring breeze that we embarked for Genoa, that seat of ancient greatness, so replete with rich associations.

We were almost immediately under weigh-soon passed out of the harbor, and in a few minutes were upon the blue, beautiful and majestic waters, reflecting the deep azure of the heavens, and laughing in the bright sunlight. Day passed charmingly; and night, with her moonlit solemnities, kept me wakeful on deck for many an hour. When the morning broke, we found the shores of Italy on our left, bathed in that sweet misty light which enriches and mellows the landscape on which it falls. We were in the gulf of Genoa, and soon its port became distinctly visible. Genoa, as viewed from the harbor, is very lovely. It is flanked by a chain of mountains, of bold and graceful outline, on the sides of which the venerable mass is built; and far towards the left are seen the snowy summits of the Alps. The city was radiant with light, glancing and resting upon her towers, domes, turrets and marble-fronted palaces—those remnants and memorials of a grandeur and of a glory which have passed away forever.

Having but one day allotted to Genoa, we gladly stepped ashore at the very first opportunity, and soon filled our minds with Italian associations by a walk through the Strada Nuova

CIVITA-VECCHIA.

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and Strada Balbi, where palace after palace of the most stately and graceful kind presented itself for our admiration. Three classes of objects occupied our attention, namely, churches, palaces of the Genovese nobility, and views of the city and its bay from elevated spots. The streets of Cienoa, are for the most part narrow, yet bold; while the rich and graceful style of architecture which prevails, renders every street and alley a fit subject for the pencil. And then the moving and ever changing crowds of population, in all the varieties of national costume-women in their delicate gauze veils, or else of richly figured silk-shoals of ecclesiastics of various orders-monks, friars, and sisters of charity, in the habits of their several grades, made me almost feel as if what I had often seen in pictures was realized before me, till at length all seemed changed into one vast picture again; and it will be remembered by me, just as we remember a picture. The Churches are in general fine in their way, and profuse in the Italian style of decoration, to a degree that becomes offensive to the more chastened and Protestant taste of the English. While examining one of the Churches, I was much struck by the behavior of a poor feeble old man who entered shortly after He made his way direct towards a small picture of our blessed Lord on the cross, which hung rather low; and having fervently kissed the feet of the Saviour and gazed upwards with an apparently deep devotedness of manner, he sank slowly down upon his knees and seemed absorbed at once by the inward exercise of his soul-a scene worthy of a better form of Christianity.

me.

Altogether, we spent a very charming though hurried day at Genoa; and in the evening embarked for Leghorn and Civita-vecchia-direct for Rome.

Civita-vecchia is a miserable little port, and presented on our arrival a scene of clamorous disorder not easy to be described. Shoals of squalid and eager porters awaited our setting foot on shore, with the most intense anxiety; and when our luggage was landed, each article was seized by a separate hand, while fierce contention raged for a time be

tween the successful and the disappointed members of this wild and ragged fraternity. At length luggage and travellers were safely conducted to the Dogana, where the former underwent the usual preliminary search on entering the papal states. Most of our packages, and especially a box containing my travelling library, were bound round with cords and sealed with an official seal, in order that they might undergo such a search at Rome as should satisfy a jealous and suspicious government, that nothing was imported tending to affect the safety of the "holy see." After a rough refreshment at a miserable hotel, we set out for Rome-distant about forty-eight miles English, with a very unhappy equipment, which made it necessary for us to rest at Palo till midnight, or rather to wait, for rest was out of the question, amidst the most clamorous set of French, Italian, Scotch, and English, I have ever beheld. Soon after midnight we resumed our wearisome journey.

The sun was just rising upon the "eternal city," when we approached it, on the twenty-third of March. Excessive fatigue benumbed in some degree the sensations with which, under other circumstances, I should have approached a spot so deeply affecting as Rome; but yet, I could not suffer the far-famed city to break upon my view without a retrospective glance at those by-gone days, along which the broad current of Roman story flowed on majestically, in contrast with the more modern associations which forced themselves upon the mind. Pagan glory, robed in darkness, as the characteristic of the former age; and spiritual degradation, hand in hand with vast and fearful depravity, as the indication of the latter, supplied the elements of the moral picture on which my mind rested, as I drove within the walls of the modern city, crossing the lazy waters of the ancient Tiber.

On reaching the city gates, we were instantly under the charge of a military escort-that sign of a tyrannical government-and conducted at once to the Dogana, where, at that early hour of the morning, our passports were demanded and our luggage all examined, with the exception of my travel

ing library, which had been secured by the papal seal at Civita-vecchia. This was detained, in order that on a future day, however inconvenient to me, it might be thoroughly searched by a proper officer, that I might not with impunity, bring into the papal territory, books included in the Index Expurgatorius of truth-hating Rome. Three days after our arrival, I attended at the Dogana, to be present at the examination of my books, after several hours spent in undergoing the various previous formalities. The system of espionage which prevails in the papal dominions, is disgusting in the extreme, and repulsive to an English mind. The whole proceedings, to which I was thus subject, breathed the very genius of the inquisition. I must, however, confess that when at last we came into the presence of the literary Censor, and the box and its contents were fairly exposed to his view, he behaved with the greatest courtesy and consideration; and though the entire Scriptures, in Hebrew, Greek, and English, together with several books bearing reference to the restoration of Israel and other subjects of Protestant theology, came under his inquisitive glance-he read out their titles-addressed me in good English, upon which he rather seemed to pique himself, and said, "If you are satisfied-so am I;" and permitted me to replace my little treasure of sacred literature in the box, and kindly facilitated my movements in what yet remained to be done at the Dogana; but I did not escape without paying a duty per pound upon my books, Bibles and all. Alas for Rome!

The "Holy Week" had commenced before we reached Rome; and so great was the influx into the city at that time, that we found it a matter of much difficulty to procure accommodation of any kind. Having at length succeeded, and refreshed ourselves after our wearisome journey, we proceeded at once to the objects of interest which claimed our ́attention. We allotted to ourselves six days for our sojourn in Rome-little enough it must be confessed; but we were anxious to press onwards to scenes of deeper interest still. Two main objects lay before me-the one, was to see all

that could be seen of Popery at head quarters; the other was to contemplate the remains of Rome scattered around me, with all their traces of ancient glory and ruined magnifi

cence.

Our first excursion was from the Via del Babuino, over the bridge of St. Angelo, commanding the celebrated fort of that name-straight to St. Peter's. I feel difficulty in communicating to others the first and subsequent impressions made on my mind by that celebrated structure. On driving up to the grand area-so noble in its dimensions, with its cool gush of graceful fountains flinging up their feathery streams to a great height, and returning them in rich dews upon the thirsty pavements; and on gazing forwards to the cathedral itself, with its dome and stately colonnades on either side, and with the splendid elevation of the Vatican-the residence of the assumed vicegerent of Christ upon earth, looking down upon the vast pile with which it is connected, in silent majesty, and telling the dark story of many a departed day in the annals of the papacy-there was in my mind a sense of disappointment, which was not by any means diminished when I set my foot within the portico of the temple. On analyzing the state of my mind, I found that the sense of disappointment did not arise from any cause really induced by St. Peter's itself, but from the actually unprepared state of the mental perception. It is one thing to see with the natural eye; another to perceive with the inward vision of the mind. I saw St. Peter's at first only with the natural eye; and it appeared not indeed diminutive or insignificant, but small in proportion to the mental picture I had conceived of it. During my first visit I was not able to get my mind fairly at work upon the subject-so occupied was it by the various things which fixed my attention at once, and in succession; and thus St. Peter's was still an object of disappointment. It was only after the second and third visit that I discovered the cause of this; when I found, that as my mind expanded over the various details of architectural magnificence-so the grand whole expanded itself before my perception, till 1