temporary gaiety. Yet in all countries, and in all ages, it has been customary to decorate tombs highly, and even splendidly. The treasury is a large and very handsome room, simple in its form, and not overloaded with ornaments. The ceiling, as is usual in Italy, has a large cove, leaving only a small flat space in the middle; and in these large and lofty rooms, the arrangement produces a magnificent effect. It was pillaged of course in the late revolutions, but they have again collected a few good paintings, and some elegant gold cups, and other things of that sort, enriched with pearls and precious stones; the gifts of the kings and queens of modern times. Attached to the religious institutions of Italy, there is frequently an apothecary’s shop; and I believe generally speaking, these are the places where the best drugs are sold. The Spezieria at Loreto, is not however, so famous for its drugs, as for its jars of earthenware. They are said to have been executed from designs by Raphael, but we do not find in them any trace of his excellences, or of his peculiarities of manner. After seeing the lions of Loreto, and walking a little about the town, I returned to the Piazza. A large concourse of people was assembled, listening to a preacher, who was delivering his exhortations from a temporary scaffold erected for that purpose. You know that in the Catholic church, preaching is not considered as part of the duty of the parish priest, but devolves on persons who devote themselves more particularly to that object. Sometimes there is only one preacher, and the sermon is given, as with us, after the service, but it is generally a pretty long one; at other times one preacher succeeds another, and the stream of instruction flows uninterruptedly for many hours. A chair was provided for the orator on the present occasion, but he made little use of it, walking for the most part backwards and forwards on the platform. This space certainly gives room for more varied and graceful action than the confinement in a tub, or in a pulpit like a tub. A man talking earnestly with his friends will naturally at times advance or recede a step or two, but he rarely thumps either a cushion or a table. I joined the crowd, and found that the preacher’s subject was the abuse of confession. He was endeavouring to impress on his audience the necessity of sincere, heartfelt repentance; and of perfect candour, and openness on the part of the penitent; otherwise, he assured us that the confession, in spite of any penance we might perform, and of any absolution we might receive, was merely to be added to the list of our crimes, and made the subject of deeper penitence, and more honest confession. Not content with generals he descended to particulars, and described with great spirit and animation, the shifts of the sinner to avoid too great an exposure of his fault, and yet to obtain, as he erroneously imagined, the benefits of confession and absolution. “Oh do