Travelling gear was now thrown aside, the toilet consulted, and in a few moments I was in a procession in honor of the “Purification of the Holy Virgin,” with head uncovered, as devout a Catholic as could be met within the precincts of the Vatican, or, at least, within the congregation about me, if I might be permitted to judge from the appendix to their devotional exercises on the present occasion. The men, women, and children, as soon as they had concluded these ceremonies here, started in a body, with a revolting precipitation, to the gaming tables, which had been set forth in the ruins of an old convent adjoining the sanctuary where the procession had just been dissolved! Here were found all classes of society, male and female. The highest ecclesiastical and civil dignitaries were there, hob and nob, with the most common of the multitude. The ladies generally interested themselves in the games, and sometimes played deep. They were, most of them, good-looking, and tastefully dressed; but they quite stared me out of countenance. I doubtless appeared as strange to them, as they and their customs did to me. I contrived, however, to survive their scrutiny. After lounging about the long corridors where the company was assembled, observing and being observed for two hours, and feeling fatigued, not only with the scenes around, but with the day’s ride, I hastened to my quarters, and the quiet of the pillow. Awaking at an early hour in the morning, the sounds of a steam-engine greeted my ear. No music ever thrilled me with so much delight. For a moment I dreamed that I was in the land of the workingman, and within the charmed circle of his ministrations. On looking out, however, in the direction whence the noise proceeded, I noticed a cotton factory in a neighboring street. I need not say that it became the very first object of my curiosity.