to the English Episcopal Church, where the Lord’s Supper was administered according to Protestant rites, and I could not but be impressed by the contrast between the two services. It illustrated the change effected by the Reformation. I mentioned this once to the Rev. Frederic Denison Maurice, who, of course, agreed with me; and, talking of Rome, he happened to relate an anecdote which I do not remember having seen in print. Pio Nono, after the suppression of Latin nunneries in Poland, received a visit from the Emperor of Russia. “You are a great king,” said the former to the latter, “one of the mightiest in the world. I am a poor feeble man, servant of servants; but I cite you to meet me before the Judge of all, and to answer for your treatment of helpless women.” There was the old assumption of authority; but there was a touch of grandeur in the words. I saw the catacombs, following my guide, taper in hand; and in one of the strange passages was accosted by name. “Who could have expected to be recognised in this dark underworld?” I exclaimed. It turned out to be a person who had lived at Eton, and been a hearer of mine at Windsor. Other recognitions have occurred to me of an odd kind, when visiting several places. I became so attracted by what I saw in Rome, and drank so deeply into the spirit of Arnold’s letters, written there, that my last day was spent in pensive leave-takings of ruin after ruin, church after church. I have been there twice since, each for a longer time than the first; but not with quite the impression which I felt in the first instance. We proceeded to Naples, stopped at Cisterna, at Terracinia, at Gaeta, and at S. Agata. Whoever has travelled the same road must long remember the fragrance of the orange-groves and the coloured dresses of the peasantry. We had no trouble at custom-houses on the way, for my two companions and myself travelled in humble fashion. Otherwise did the two doctors, already mentioned, fare. Large sums were demanded of them on the Neapolitan frontier; and when they refused to pay, their luggage was searched, and a coloured pen-wiper being found, the officials declared it was a _revolutionary cockade_, and that books in their portmanteaus were no doubt full of treason and heresy. There was no alternative but to stay where they were, or to allow a soldier to accompany them in charge of the suspected articles. All this trouble was followed by apologies on reaching Naples, after an appeal had been made to the English Consul.