tions and singing of the Trinità de' Monti, those only being admitted now who are known to the community or introduced by a friend; and they should beware lest similar restrictions be adopted in their regard elsewhere. I certainly am of opinion that no means should be neglected to restrain the undue license which is at present allowed in the Roman churches. Even the evil effect which it must produce on the lower orders of Italians, to see those whom they consider their superiors in intelligence, as well as in appearance, so disrespectful to all that they hold sacred, should compel the authorities to take some decided step in the matter, and would, I have no doubt, if reflected on, induce many who would not wilfully be a stumblingblock to the piety of others, to change their manners when they enter "the place where His glory dwelleth." A notice is posted on the door of every church in Rome threatening severe penalties to those who commit any breach of propriety therein; and with this before their eyes no one can be held excusable, or expect impunity, if he offend. No one would desire more than I would that the prejudices of others should be respected; and I do not think, on that account, that Protestants should be required to kneel, on entering the church, or even at any portion of the mass; but they should at least be obliged to make their want of conformity with the usage of the church as little conspicuous as possible, and nothing bordering on irreverence of manner should be tolerated for an instant.

But I have made a most extraordinary digression from the subject of Christmas-revenons.

The social aspects of the Roman Christmas are no less gay than its religious ceremonies are gorgeous; and even domestic festivities are not without their homely charms, their cheer and joy. Of the latter, indeed, I had personal proof, having spent an unusually agreeable evening with a Roman family of distinction. Never did I see the blessed season of joy welcomed with more genuine happiness than in the halls and by the fireside of that princely palace; never was the golden lining of the cloud of life more beautifully manifest.

Happy Christmas! never was it happier than on that bright evening. There was not a care or sorrow to mar its blithesomeness. But peace alone, and gladsome communings, and true enjoyment marked its festal hours, as they fled fastly by. Even yet I hear the sweet tones of guitar and harp ring softly as then upon mine ear, and the memory of those mirthful strains and cheery songs still awaken echoes of joy within my heart. Surely the "peace unto men," first chanted by angel voices, had descended into that noble habitation; for never, even in my own loved home, did I feel more deeply the kindly influences of the happy

season.

Alas! those things have now passed away-perhaps for ever! But still I love to dwell on them. I look back to them as green spots in the path of earthly travel. My heart shrines their memory with affection. Blessed memories! sweet remembrances! that picture to my mind the joy in which I have commingled, the splendour of which I have been a witness! May you ever dwell within this heart, brightening it ever, and

keeping fresh its sympathy with things so pure. And when other years shall roll around, and other Christmas-days shall come, may I never, even amidst home enjoyments, the affectionate embrace of relatives, and the warm clasp of friends, forget the happiness, spiritual and social, of that Christmas which I have spent in Rome.

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CHAPTER IX.

CELEBRATIONS OF THE NEW YEAR.

Reflections on the close of the Year-Manner of celebrating the New Year in various Countries-How it is celebrated in Rome The Last Day of the Old Year-State Procession-Arrival at the Gesù— Te Deum and Benediction by the Pope in that Church-The Dawning of New Year's Day-The Gesù again-The Veni Creator-Social Aspect-Rigour with which Visits of Congratulation are exacted on this occasion-Mode of avoiding this inconvenience-An old and graceful Custom.

In an earthly point of view, the close of one year and the opening of another is a melancholy epoch in our existence. Once more Time's glaring axle has completed its revolution; another stepping-stone is passed in the stream that separates us from eternity. Again we are brought to muse upon the past, to speculate on the future; and another year is added to the sum of life's responsibilities and experiences! "How,” I asked myself with interest, "does Rome celebrate this occasion?" The keeping of New Year's Day as a festival in England, has nearly fallen into desuetude; in Scotland, on the contrary, it is the gayest of the whole three hundred and sixty-five. In the United States they have their old Santa Claus and the Russian Nicholas, and a rare midnight rout of young ones for the New Year's presents. In Germany, the "Prosst Neu Jahr" is loud on every tongue; troops of students meet to serenade their preceptors and their mistresses;

the Burchen song is sung in the streets, and bustle and riotous vivats are heard from early morning until noon. In Switzerland, horns are blown upon the mountains, and noisy revel greets the advent of another "year beginning." Does Rome act to-day like these? Let

us see!

It is the last day of the old year. A grand procession moves towards the beautiful church of the Gesù; it is the grandest one in which the chorists of the Vatican ever appear. The sabloned streets and the large military escort announce the presence of the Pope; while the attendance of the corps diplomatique, the presence of the great lay and clerical functionaries, the gorgeous equipages, the magnificent burst of the military bands, the peal of bells and the clash of arms, are the glorious accompaniments of his progress. The crowd is so great that even long before the arrival of the Pontifical cortége it is difficult to obtain entrance into the church, though one of the largest in Rome. The piazza is guarded by French, Italian, and Swiss troops-infantry and cavalry-strikingly picturesque in their varied uniforms and accoutrements. The superb temple itself is decorated with even more than the ordinary splendour of its great occasions.

At length the procession is at an end. The state carriage of the Pope is driven to the door, and his Holiness alights in the midst of a multitude, kneeling to receive his apostolic benediction.

A few minutes later, and he stands before the resplendent altar. The last sunshine of the dying year is streaming on the noble figure of the Pope. He lifts