It is the étiquette on these occasions that no person be admitted either into the church of St Peter or into the Sistine Chapel except in full toilette. The ladies dress generally in black with caps and feathers; the gentlemen either in black full dress or in military uniform. From the variety of foreigners of all nations that are here, most of whom are military men, or intitled to wear military uniforms, much is added to the splendour of the spectacle. On the evening of Easter Monday, I was present at the illumination of the facade of St Peter's. Rows of lamps are suspended the whole length of the columns and pilasters and all over the cupola, so that, when illuminated, the style of the architecture is perceptible. The illumination takes place almost at once. How it is managed I cannot say; but a splendid illuminated temple seems at once to drop from the clouds, like the work of an enchanter; I say _drop from the clouds_, because the illumination begins from the cross and cupola and is communicated with the rapidity of lightning to every other part of the edifice. About ten o'clock the same evening the most magnificent firework perhaps in the world begins to play from the castle of St Angelo. All kinds of shapes are assumed by these fireworks: here are castles, pagodas, dragons, griffins, etc. These last about an hour and then conclude, and with them conclude all the ceremonies used in commemoration of the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Among the sights of Rome I must not omit that of a famous robber of the name of Barbone, who was the terror of the whole surrounding country from the depredations he committed. Having capitulated, and surrendered himself to the Papal Government, he is now confined in the Castle of St Angelo as a state prisoner. His wife, or a woman calling herself so, is confined there with him, and she is said to be a woman of uncommon beauty. It is quite the rage among the English here to go to see these _illustrious_ captives, and Madame Barbone, superbly dressed, receives the hommage of the visitors. The Duchess of D[evonshire] is said to have visited her, and made her a present of a pearl necklace. I hope this is not true. Surely the Duchess, who is a woman of talent and an encourager of the fine arts, might have found some other object worthier of her munificence. What claims the mistress, or even the wife, of a public robber can have on the generosity of travellers, I am at a loss to conceive; but such is the _bizarrerie_ and _inconsequence_ of the English, and no doubt, be this story of her Grace of D[evonshire] having given a present true or not, it will occasion many other presents being made to the captive Princess by a host of silly lord-aping English men and women. Barbone has, it is said, made an excellent capitulation. He has stipulated to be released from prison after a year and a day's confinement, and no doubt he will then resume his old trade of brigandage.