congregation of three or four hundred English residents and travellers. Indeed, the English do so much by their wealth, and by their patronage of the fine arts, to keep Rome from a state of utter stagnation and death, that it is policy to use them well. It is said, that a great excitement was produced in the Papal Court by an affair which occurred during Holy Week this year. One of the Pope's Swiss Guard was guilty of rudeness in repelling an English lady from some place under his care, whereupon the gentleman who attended her, without any ceremony, knocked him down. For this he was seized and confined by the soldiers. The matter was reported forthwith to the English Consul, who interfered with such spirit as to make His Holiness and his Cardinals look rather blue.

A very pious, active, and excellent man with whom I became acquainted at Naples, is the Rev. Mr. Vallette, chaplain of the Prussian Embassy. Mr. V. has now been at Naples nine years, and preaches in French every Sabbath in the house of the Prussian Ambassador, to two or three hundred persons, and also labors among the Swiss soldiers, in the barracks. He sometimes preaches in German, when his colleague, who labors with that class of residents, is absent, and also in Albanian. On each of two days in the week he spends five or six hours in instructing the children of his parish. He used to visit some of the hospitals and prisons, but the Jesuits have cut him off from this means of doing good. He is a fine scholar, and a very amiable and useful man.

He

We had the pleasure of meeting, at Naples, the Rev. J. D. Paxton, for some years pastor of the Presbyterian church in Norfolk, Virginia, and afterwards of the church connected with Hampden-Sidney College, and the Union Theological Seminary, in Prince Edward county, in the same State. took passage with us to Malta, and it was very pleasant to have the company and aid of a man of so much piety and modest worth. One needs to be severed from Christian society, and placed where those around him watch for his halting, fully to feel the strength and value of those delightful ties, those cords of love, by which the hearts of Christians are united to each other.

There are many in the south of Europe, especially among the higher classes, who have no respect for the Catholic religion, and freely avow it; but still say, that they are so watched by the priests, that if they do not comply with the

outward forms of religion, they are forthwith marked, and their political interests suffer. If the union between church and state in Catholic countries were once dissolved, a deathblow would thus be struck at the whole system.

The prevalence of street and field-preaching in Catholic countries may greatly aid the cause of truth, should Protestantism ever be tolerated there. In these mild climates, it has always been practised by certain classes of friars; and they may be seen with a crowd around them, on public squares, and at the corners of the streets, with a man beside them holding a large image of Christ on the cross, to which they often point in their preaching. A smaller cross hangs behind the preacher in churches, which, at the close of a sermon, he takes down and kisses, and often has a dialogue like this. "Here," says he to the people, "is your God (holding up the cross). Don't you hear what your God says to you? He says so and so. Listen to him." And thus they go on with this almost blasphemous familiarity, apparently directing such reverence as there may be, to the image instead of Him in the heavens, whom it represents.

There are in Naples numerous convents, monasteries, and churches, some of which are quite large and splendid. But most of the old Catholic churches and cathedrals are so covered with dirt and dust; and the walls, pillars, pictures, and images, have become of so dark and dingy a color, from the smoke of the numerous torches burned there; that whatever beauty they might have had is gone, and they owe their whole effect to their size, and the merits there may be in their architecture. There is one church in Naples, however, which is a striking exception to the description given above. It is that of San Martino, and is situated on the hill of St. Elmo, adjoining the castle. Its site was formerly occupied by a country house of the king of Naples, and surely a more delightful spot for such a building could not have been selected. The church was erected in 1325, and remodelled on a new plan two centuries afterwards. It is kept extremely clean, and is ornamented with paintings of a high order, by Spagnoletto, Michael Angelo, and other artists of the first class. There is a picture of Jesus Christ dead, which is much admired, and for which it is said that an English nobleman offered 20,000 pounds. But one hears similar stories with regard to so many paintings, at Rome and elsewhere, that he is led to think them all mere fictions. The roof of this church

is covered with fine fresco paintings, and the floor and the walls are composed of the richest mosaics, inwrought with lapis lazuli, Egyptian agate, and other kinds of precious stones. The choir and the sacristy are entirely covered with mosaics, worked in Brazil wood, representing scenes and passages of history taken from the Old Testament. Some idea can be formed of the richness and magnificence of every thing within, from the fact, that the railing of the altar alone, which is not more than two feet high and twenty in length, cost $16,000. The size of the church is not such as to be imposing, but its perfect neatness, together with the fine pictures and statues, and the rich and gorgeous mosaics which adorn it, give it a striking and peculiar interest. The wealth that has been wasted on Catholic churches is truly astonishing. I say wasted, for so we may consider what has been expended in gilding the walls, in adorning the rich and gorgeous altars, in procuring costly paintings and statues, and in every thing which has for its object merely, that show and parade, which impose upon the senses without affecting the heart. Were there taken from these vast show-boxes only what should leave to them all that is truly needful to a church as a place of religious worship and instruction, the wealth thus saved would be sufficient to send the gospel through the world. To be convinced of this, one needs but to travel through the south of Europe, and, if he choose, he may take into account South America and Mexico. In the latter country, in one cathedral, whose interior is adorned with the lustre of the richest gems and precious stones, he may see a single lamp before the altar, which cost $100,000, and in another a pulpit of ivory, which cost $600,000.

From the hill of St. Elmo, where are the castle and the church of St. Martin, the prospect is most striking and beautiful. It embraces Baia and Puzzoli, with their scenes of classic interest,-the wide-spread bay of Naples, with its islands, - Vesuvius, sending up its clouds of smoke to heaven, while round its base lie, in buried towns and villages, the ruins of many generations. Further back, until the hills and far off mountains stop the view, all is one rich and verdant array of vineyards and gardens, of fruit and forest trees, and waving fields of grain; while at your feet, and far beneath you, is the city, with its lofty houses, its numerous churches and convents, and the hum of its vast and busy population, rising in one united and indistinct murmur, and falling upon

the faint and distant

the ear like the noise of many waters, echo of the conflicting waves of passion, interest, and pleasure, which agitate the ocean of existence which lies below.

The principal street in Naples is the Strada Toledo. It extends from the foot of the hill of St. Elmo, in a straight line, the whole length of the city, and is one of the finest in Europe. The houses are five or six stories high, with balconies in front of all the windows; and when large and imposing processions are passing, their whole fronts are covered with human beings, mostly females, all life and motion; and, as those who are wont to describe such matters would say, presenting a splendid array of beauty and fashion. On such occasions, many of the balconies are hung with rich coverings of scarlet or yellow silk. There is much that is imposing, in beholding the multitude thus suspended in the air, and the mighty throng who fill the streets all silently kneeling, when the Host, or the image of a saint, is borne along; or waving their handkerchiefs, and rending the heavens with their shouts, when the king is passing by.

In addition to other shows and fiestas, when splendid illuminations took place, we were at Naples on the festival of Corpus Christi. The object of this is, to celebrate the first establishment of the Lord's Supper. The procession was very long, and the number of the military, with their fine bands of music, and of the priests, was immense. And well it might be so, for the king of Naples has some 30,000 or 40,000 soldiers; and, in addition to the multitude of priests connected with the numerous churches, there are in the city 149 convents. These priests make a singular figure as they move about. In Spain you see them with hats, having round crowns, and with brims some two or three feet in diameter, rolled up at the sides, so as to meet on the top of the head, and pointing fore and aft, like stove pipes, to which they have been aptly compared. In Italy, however, the priests commonly have three-cornered hats, the brims of which, instead of being bound closely to the crown, rise up in a jaunty way, and give them a kind of airy and fantastic look. All have small-clothes and stockings of black, with large shoe-buckles; nor are they, like the Spanish clergy, for ever wrapped up in the national cloak. But then the priestlings, the poor little fellows, what odd looking fish they are. You may see them of all ages, from eight or ten upwards, with their small-clothes on, and moving about under huge, wide-spread hats. They look like

so many dwarfish and shrivelled pigmies, personating the ghosts of a former generation, or as if they were thus robed in mockery of the dress of the priesthood. One may also see little stripling friars, with their heads shaved and bare, with their coarse, woollen gowns and hoods, and a cord, or broad leather strap round the waist, and the ends hanging down to the ground. The wild and rakish conduct of many of these youth, who have nothing of the clergyman about them but their dress, brings much reproach not only upon the priesthood but also upon religion itself.

But let us return to the festival of Corpus Christi. Mass was performed in one or two churches, and immense crowds thronged the streets to witness the splendid procession, while the balconies, as far as the eye could reach, were filled with ladies in their holyday dresses. But the centre of attraction, and the object alike of curiosity and devout adoration, was the Host, the consecrated elements of the Holy Supper, and, as Catholics believe, the real body and blood of Christ,, that body which died upon the cross and ascended to heaven. Yes, parts of that same body are claimed to be present in all parts of the world where the sacrament of the Lord's Supper is administered. In this case, the Host was carried under a rich canopy of white silk, supported by four bearers, and was immediately followed by the king and other members of the royal family, with their heads uncovered, and on foot. Behind them came their empty coaches, each drawn by six superb horses, and with footmen and outriders in the richest and most gorgeous livery. The soldiers presented their arms, the clangor of martial music rent the heavens, the crowd looked on with wonder and awe, and the gaudy pageant passed away. And this, thought I, is religion, the religion of the Prince of Peace, of Him, who said, " My kingdom is not of this world," - "of Him, who had not where to lay his head," and who foretold of his true followers, that they should be poor and despised, and strangers alike to the wealth and the honors of this world.

That the morals of the people in the south of Italy are very low and corrupt, is what is often said, but no idea can be formed of the sad reality but by being in the midst of them. It is enough to make one sick, and feel ashamed to call himself a man, to witness the knavery, the hollow-hearted meanness, the duplicity and deceit, which everywhere meets him in Italy. You are uniformly charged double or treble the