is deemed almost as scandalous as scheming against it; so wedded are all men to mere forms and old usages. The worship of the Virgin is particularly dear to southern people; it seems allied to all that is most chaste and tender in their love of woman; but every preacher treats this subject with the same exaggerated rhetoric, unconscious that his gestures perpetually turn it into ridicule. There is scarcely to be heard, from one Italian pulpit, a single specimen of correct accent, or natural delivery. Oswald fled from this most fatiguing of inflictions--that of affected vehemence--and sought the Coliseum, where a Capuchin was to preach in the open air, at the foot of an altar, in the centre of the inclosure which marks the road to the cross. What a theme were this arena, where martyrs succeeded gladiators: but there was no hope of hearing it dilated on by the poor Capuchin, who knew nothing of the history of man, save in his own life. Without, however, coming there to hear his bad sermon, Oswald felt interested by the objects around him. The congregation was principally composed of the Camaldoline fraternity, at that time attired in gray gowns that covered both head and body, leaving but two little openings for the eyes, and having a most ghostly air. Their unseen faces were prostrated to the earth; they beat their breasts; and when their preacher threw himself on his knees, crying: "Mercy and pity!" they followed his example. As this appeal from wretchedness to compassion, from Earth to Heaven, echoed through the classic porticos, it was impossible not to experience a deeply pious feeling in the soul's inmost sanctuary. Oswald shuddered; he remained standing, that he might not pretend to a faith which was not his own; yet it cost him an effort to forbear from this fellowship with mortals, whoever they were, thus humbling themselves before their God; for, does not an invocation to heavenly sympathy equally become us all? The people were struck by his noble and foreign aspect, but not displeased with his omitting to join them; for no men on earth can be more tolerant than the Romans. They are accustomed to persons who come among them but as sight-seers; and, either from pride or indolence, never seek to make strangers participate in their opinions. It is a still more extraordinary fact, that, at this period especially, there are many who take on themselves the strictest punishments; yet, while the scourge is in their hands, the church-door is still open, and every stranger welcome to enter as usual. They do nothing for the sake of being looked at, nor are they frightened from anything because they happen to be seen; they proceed towards their own aims, or pleasures, without knowing that there is such a thing as vanity, whose only aim and pleasure consists in the applause of others. CHAPTER III.