"See," said he to me, pointing to the image, "this saint is different from all other saints in existence. She knows beforehand the favours her devotees come to ask of her, and she shows in a decided manner whether she intends to grant their suit or not. A few days ago a bishop, I shall not tell his name, came to pay his respects to her; I saw at once that she was displeased at his visit, as she visibly changed countenance, and assumed a pale and sad aspect: whereas, on the very same day, when the Marchioness of Riso, from Naples, came here, her aspect was altogether different. I wish you could have seen how handsome she looked! The marchioness told me she had come to ask a favour, but that she found it was granted, even before she had arrived at Mugnano." "I hope our visit will be equally acceptable to your saint," said I; "and that she will look favourably upon us, when you make us acquainted with her. I do not know whether my friend here has any boon to ask of her. For my own part, I require nothing at all from her saintship." Before withdrawing the curtain that concealed his oracle from the common gaze, the priest showed us a piece of marble upon the altar, which, he said, having been accidentally broken in two pieces, the saint had miraculously joined, and made it as perfect as before. I however begged leave to point out to him that there were pretty evident marks of its having been cemented in the ordinary way, by mastic. He also showed me a little shrine, from which, as he assured me, the reliques of the saint, after having been carefully placed there by his own hands, suddenly disappeared; because the owner of it was not sufficiently devout. As I could allege nothing to the contrary, I made no remark, but merely smiled at his absurdity. Don Francesco now rang the great bell of the church, lighted the candles upon the altar, and assembled the people. Among them I particularly noticed twenty or thirty young girls, who were maintained at the expense of the priest, out of the money given to Saint Philomena; their office was to pray to the saint, in behalf of those persons who presented gifts to her. These girls, with loud shrill voices, frequently raised to their extremest pitch, chanted the customary prayers, in the same style as the old women at Naples, in the chapel of St. Januarius, invoke the saint to perform his annual miracle of liquefying his own blood. Other girls tinkled the various bells belonging to the church, while Don Francesco, devoutly kneeling, exposed the sacred reliques. We, for our part, were lost in admiration, at beholding such solemn ceremonies, on so ridiculous an occasion as the appearance of a painted doll, dressed in female attire, with a few bones withinside, and called Saint Philomena. "Oh! how beautiful she is," exclaimed Don Francesco, turning towards us. "Observe the charming colour of her cheeks; she is like a rose of Paradise!"