The ceremonies that succeeded those of Palm Sunday have been imposing and rich, and the music of the highest character. But these things have been too often told to find a place in these desultory gleanings. One thing, however, has astonished me: I mean the indecent and pertinacious pushing of strangers. There is a corps of halberdiers here, composed of Swiss. One of these men is of great strength and stature, and I saw the poor fellow in a premature purgatory, endeavouring to keep back the English women, who pressed for admittance into a room that was not ready to receive them. The perspiration rolled from him in streams, and finally he gave up the point in despair. It is necessary to have witnessed such a scene to believe it possible. Towards the last, we had the Benedictions. There were two of these ceremonies, on one of which the Pope blesses Rome, and on the other, the earth. The latter was very imposing. The ambassadors went in state, as well as all the high nobility; and seats were prepared around the great altar in St. Peter’s. Vast as this edifice is, it was well garnished with human faces; but it will scarcely do to say it was crowded. The Pope appeared among us, borne on men’s shoulders, amid waving plumes, in a chair of gold—that is to say, famously gilt. The benediction is given from a balcony in the front of the church, and the people are in the area between the colonnades. The space is sufficient for ten times the number that collected. The colonnades, too, are occupied, and in one of them I took my station. Observing a respectable looking black man behind me, curious to know who he could be, I took an occasion to address him in French. He answered me imperfectly; and I tried Italian, but with little better success. Of English he knew nothing; but he threw me into the shade by commencing a conversation in Latin. I was too rusty to do much at this, but I understood enough to discover that he was a Romish priest from Africa—probably connected with the Propaganda. When I told him I was an American, he looked at me with interest, and I thought he was as much astonished at my colour as I could possibly be with his. What a missionary for America!