The following Wednesday morning, I reached the cathedral just as the gospel was commenced. At the conclusion of the mass the service of the _Tenebræ_ was very impressively chanted. As I listened, my heart realized all the grief and desolation of that sad time. I could hear David bewailing his outraged Lord and Son; Jeremias lamenting over the ruins of Jerusalem, over the crucified Victim; dear mother church calling her children to repentance in supplicating, tender strains; and the three devoted Marys sighing and weeping as they climbed the steep of Calvary among the crowd that followed our blessed Saviour to the cross. At the termination of this mournful music, just as the confused murmur that recalled the noise of the tumultuous masses who, led on by Judas, came armed with sticks to seize Jesus, died away, a number of priests, completely enveloped in ample black silk robes with long pointed trains, their faces entirely concealed beneath high-peaked black silk hoods, advanced to the front of the altar and knelt in a row on the step before it. After a short, whispered prayer, one of them arose, and taking the black banner with the blood-red cross, which I have already mentioned, waved it for several minutes in silence over his companions, while they prostrated themselves on their faces before the altar. It is impossible to imagine a scene more lugubrious; the black-robed figures lying motionless, the mysterious hooded form that seemed to tower above them, the sinister flag, the deep silence--all contributed to inspire a sentiment of undefinable fear. Every one present knelt, and in unbroken silence the black banner was waved over us. When we raised our heads, the sombre assembly had disappeared and the chancel was empty. This, I was told, is a ceremony that has been handed down from the time of the primitive Christians of Rome; but no one was able to explain the meaning of it to my satisfaction. MAUNDY-THURSDAY. Maundy-Thursday found me bright and early in the cathedral, and well placed; for I was again just opposite the seats reserved for the captain-general and the governor, and just behind those intended for the military and civil officers. With the exception of the bishop's dais, throne, reading-desk, and cushion, which were now of white damask and gold, every thing was the same as on Palm-Sunday. But the great white curtain had been removed from before the southern transept, and there was now to be seen a magnificent golden sepulchre, under a white and gilded dome supported by columns. The statue of a kneeling angel adorned each side of this monument, to which the officiating priest ascended by six carpeted steps. Innumerable wax tapers in silver candlesticks were arranged on each side, their soft light reflected by the silver and gold drapery that lined the vault.