the image, which no child of them all would not disdain as a doll. It was here that Hans Christian Andersen's Improvisatore made his debut. The children were of various conditions; but there was not one of the dozen who spoke during our visit who could not have given practical lessons in elocution in any American college, which it would be to its advantage to 66 read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest." There was none of the millinery display which bedizens the actors in our day and Sunday school exhibitions. The only attempt at any thing of this kind was in the person of a young woman of six or seven years, who, in honor of the occasion, had extinguished herself by her mother's big bonnet and long-fingered gloves; but there was, on the other hand, no trace of the shamefacedness and starched awkwardness which infects the bone and muscle and cuticle of young American speakers. There was one morsel of a boy, perhaps four years old, who combined the dignity of Everett, the honeyed sweetness of Curtis, the impassioned action of a Ward Beecher, with an inimitable grace of his own. This seems extravagant; but several American gentlemen who joined us on this occasion declared the speech of this infant by far the finest exhibition of oratory they had ever heard. as a high feast. Therefore we seized this occasion for going up to the great temple with some degree of that state which I have previously decried-we signifying a sister clergywoman and myself, the young divine preferring on this occasion a solitary "prowl" in search of spoils about Trajan's forum. Robed and veiled in unmitigated black we drove toward the grand Piazza. As we drew near the throng of carriages increased until we were forced to fall into line, moving at a funereal pace behind a Cardinal's gilded coach, with its red umbrella strapped upon the roof. At regular intervals dragoons were stationed, reining their superb horses with one hand, while the other held a drawn sword. As we entered and passed down the nave, we found the magnificent pillars tricked out with gala crimsonand-gold, while before the bronze statue of Jupiter, or Jew-Peter (this musty pun could never be more relevant than here), burned the massive golden candlesticks, which cost either 20,000 or 200,000 scudi each-my note-book being blurry hereabout. With minds conscious of rectitude of toilet we marched solemnly to the sacred inclosure, where on Christmas-eve we had sat in lone state, but which was now nearly filled with ladies in black. A stately chamberlain eyed us critically, and then graciously passed us in, we returning the gaze with interest, as his costume presented far more attractive points than oursconsisting as it did of a Spanish cloak of velvet, knee-breeches, a stiff ruff about the throat, and at the wrists soft ruffles of priceless old lace; and, above all, a superb necklace of gold. But our delight speedily gave way to other feelings. After vespers, chanted by filthy Franciscans, the great event of the year took place. A magnificent band of music was stationed in the nave, to whose superb marches a long procession, bearing gorgeous banners and splendid symbols, moved once and again through all the aisles of the church. Ecclesiastics of various ranks in rich attire, followed by a dreary file Having been brought to approve the action of unclean monks, whose bare feet matched in of the Church Fathers in regard to costume hue their dingy robes of brown. With various long before I reached the church, as I saw with marchings and preparatory ceremonies the whole what modest grace the veil enfolded the lovely glittering train swept up to the chapel-tableau, Madonna, my companion, a simple glance and after profuse genuflection, and grimace, and around the charmed circle to which we were, waving of odorous censers, the image was given now admitted convinced me that no costume into their care, when they all marched and coun- could be so universally becoming as that ortermarched again, with the Bambino carried at dained and rigorously enforced upon all aspirtheir head in the arms of a bishop, who resem-ants to these seats of honor during church cerebled Daniel Webster, and looked quite as sheep-monials. It occurred to us that were Protestant ish as that great statesman would have done if forced to carry a big black doll at the head of a Fourth of July procession. The scene without the church was even more amazing than that within. The great flight of steps, the pavement, and every window and loggia in the vicinity were thronged; and when the great procession finally moved to the central door, and the blushing bishop held aloft the Bambino without, as within the church, men, women, and children fell upon their knees in adoration. Having viewed St. Peter's under a variety of aspects, it remained for us to behold it as the well-appointed stage for the exhibition of Pontifical High Mass, with all its pomp Before us sat a party of English women, whose and circumstance. As Pius IX. has outdone improving conversation we could not escape. the world in Mariolatry, it would be probable Among their words of wisdom were the followthat Candlemas or Purification-day would, un- ing: "Who was the Bishop who officiated on der his reign, be observed with peculiar honor Sunday?"-meaning at the English church just assemblies of worship less kaleidoscopic in coloring, corporeal and spiritual vision would be less distracted, and the number of obtrusivelyhomely women be reduced. Yet it was amusing to see how feminine ingenuity had contrived to introduce richness and even variety into the strictest compliance with the absolute law. Of course the robe-so it were black-might be of serge, silk, or regal velvet; while the head was adorned with every degree of quality and quantity, from the rich folds of a superb mantle (transformed by the aid of jeweled pins into a veil for the nonce) to a coquettish little barbe, or a square foot of simple bobbinet. beyond the Porta del Popolo. "Bishop Whipple, dear." "Where is he Bishop, pray ?" "Mimosa, on the western coast of Africa!" But here comes a full drum corps playing lustily, as they usher in two regiments of soldiers, who, being stationed in a double row the entire length of the nave, stand with bayonets fixed during the service. A brief interval; immense sensation among the girls around us; enter the Guardia Nobile. Our matron souls were not totally unmoved by their perfections. They are the flower of Roman nobility, and yet what knightly deed was ever done by the bravest of them all? The uncouthest soldier-boy in Yankee blue who ever kept faithful watch before a loyal camp outranks them. And yet, in the impassioned words of one of the improving English colloquists before us, "What lovely legs!" Golden helmets, with stiff white plumes, black "waterfalls" three quarters of a yard long, white knee-breeches, high top-boots, blue (scarlet when at their grandest) coats, completed the costume of these physically and sartorially magnificent fellows, who lead captive silly women (particularly English and American school-girls), and stand with drawn swords on either side of the Pope's chair. Next come in long procession the Swiss Guard in the horrible auto-da-fé-ish livery which perpetuates the single blunder of the inspired architect, sculptor, painter, poet, statesman, Michael Angelo, who designed it, nodding. But behold Pio Nono himself borne in gorgeous procession of cardinals, bishops, etc. Although the twelve bearers walk softly, yet the old man reminded me of certain little boys who, aspiring to ride the elephant around the ring at a menagerie, find the exaltation more productive of sea-sickness and scare (against which pride struggles with a sickly smile) than of the .anticipated triumph. However, the Holy Father shut his eyes bravely and stretched out two fingers in benediction, and was at last safely deposited in his crimson-and-gold robes before the altar, and after a moment's pause made for his throne at a rapid pace. The choir from behind a screened balcony pealed forth glorious music, during which poor Pius again lost his liberty and his gay robes, and appeared at last clad in purest white. the spreading train a final snap after the manner of laundresses with bed-linen) with all the independence of a Bloomer. All Now came the blessing of the candles. the priestly throng were furnished with at least three feet of as yet unblessed wax, as were the majority of princes, embassadors, etc., who occupied sacred inclosures still nearer the Pontiff than ours. Each candle was laid across the knees of his Holiness, the owner thereof receiving it (the candle) kneeling, first thrusting his head under it as if it were a yoke, and retiring after another application of his lips to the sacred slipper. A stout old gentleman, with white mustache, in gorgeous uniform, and covered with decorations, lugged up his great candle, and was rewarded by receiving the cardinal's privilege of touching the Pope's hand; he proved to be that martyr for the faith, the Grand Duke of Tuscany, instead of General Scott, as I at first imagined. Ignition instantly followed benediction. Star after star twinkled into light. more the Pope mounted upon his elephant, wellbalanced this time, since, while one hand was outstretching in benediction, the other was grasping a huge lighted candle. Once But it was a beautiful sight when the great procession swept through the immense Basilica, with the glitter of gold and silver and precious stones, the flash of intensest colors, and the thousands of stars gleaming through the glorious aisles. When it was most remote from us it seemed like the shimmer of the milky way, or like the going forth of Ursa Major with all the stars in his train. At its approach all the devout fell upon their knees, except the august Guardia Nobile, and the undevout bowed their heads in obedience to the injunction, Honor the king. Next us had been sitting a little old nun with a bundle done up in a white rag, which consisted of four dirty old candle ends, and a broken umbrella top (to the best of our judgment). Our attention was suddenly recalled from the procession by a sulphurous odor, and we discovered that our sister had deliberately struck a match and lighted her candle-ends, which were dropping greasy tears over our garments, while she alternately wept and prayed in a very rapture of devotion, and picked at the four obstreperous wicks with a crooked pin. Somewhat remorsefully (for we could but admire the absorbed adoration of the little old woman, however misplaced), we insisted on her instantly stanching the tallow lachrymals, but we suffered greater torments thereafter from a succeeding fit of smoky sulks which outlasted the mass. A long ceremony of presentation followed, in which a score or so of church dignitaries marched in solitary state up to the throne and made their salam. The Cardinals graciously received the Pope's hand, which they kissed, humbly kneeling; inferior grandees confined their osculation to the cross on his slipper. Close at hand stood an obliging individual, who caught up the train The final ceremonial was High Mass, and in of each courtier as he approached the throne, spite of what we regarded the error and superand giving it a dextrous double twist (as if by stition, the moment of the elevation of the Host a species of patent clothes-wringer) saved him was indescribably sublime. The silence of death from inextricable entanglement in his redundant bowed the mighty assembly. A triumphant drapery, and enabled him to accomplish the strain from the hidden choir broke the awful ascent, descent, and retreat (turning the wring-spell. Upsprang the soldiery with metallic ring er backward for this last purpose, and giving on the marble pavement; the Guard Noble, who had bent one knee before the awful Presence, | faith in secret. Only under the shadow of the recovered their position and tossed their golden dear old Flag, whose stars never burned so bright helmets defiantly; uprose the devout people, to their vision as then, through" battle-smoke and last of all up came our pious little nun, all and tears of exile, can American Protestants begrimed with smoke and tears. The cere- find protection for their simple worship in Rome. mony was over, save that the Pope solemnly They are of many names, varying station, and "poored" (as the children say) somebody on differing creeds, yet they all bow at one common the shoulders. Somebody trotted off with his altar in response to the entreaty, "This do in pat of benediction to the next ermine-caped remembrance of Me." Our weekly visits to this dignitary and "poored" him; Ermine-Cape homely audience-room are among our dearest "poored" Red-Robe; Red-Robe, Violet; Vio- memories of Rome. let, Black; and so on down. Each seeming to say, as in the juvenile play of "Button," "Hold fast all I give you!" Late in the evening of our first Sunday in Rome the silence of our unfrequented vicolo was perturbed, and our hearts stirred to their depths, But when the Pope arose for the general by a familiar strain of music beneath our winbenediction he was a grand picture, with his be-dows: "Let the Hero born of woman crush the nign countenance, his pure white locks, his ven-serpent with His heel; for God is marching on!" erable figure, and majestically flowing robes of "spotless samite" (for aught I know to the contrary); and I gladly bowed my unworthy head, feeling that "the blessing of an old man could do me no harm!" The mystery was solved when we were ourselves initiated into one of the choicest privileges. Yes, "sanctuary privileges," possible to a homesick American tarrying in the Eternal City. The physician to the American Legation and And now to the choicest privilege of all the his charming wife, mindful of the land from sanctuaries of that City of Sanctuaries. Come with me into the Piazza di Spagna. No, not up the long flight of steps through the picturesque groups posed to catch an artist's eye; later, if you please, you may climb to Trinita de' Monti and listen to the piping vespers of invisible nuns; but turn to the left and enter this low passage-way. It leads us into a pair of homely rooms, filled with those who, like the Church of the Catacombs, must observe the rites of their OVER the darkening waters Just at the dusk I came. which they came out, and of its Sunday evening chantings in family circles of "Psalms and Hymns and spiritual songs," are wont to welcome their friends quietly on Sunday evening to their handsome appartamento. The fragment of the sublime battle-hymn which had so thrilled us, proved to have been trolled by a party of young Americans sauntering to their lodgings after one of these home-like gatherings at Dr. Gould's. UNDER THE ARCHES. When I reached the terrace and archway Held the night's jewels of flame. Twin cities, kept asunder By the strong arm of the bay, I watched the cloud summits, no longer The many-roofed city beneath them I said, "Oh, sombre city! Between the clouds and the bay, Between the night and the day; That is ever too far away." Up from the marge of the waters, They had crossed the darkening waters, I said, "Full many a burden, Seaward you've hurried away. Not cold, as I think, nor cruel To the dead, drowned sorrow there; Full many a woeful burden You've floated through shade and shine; Suddenly turning, I saw them Above me, far on the heights, The throng, pressing upward and onward- And the long, long lines of lights. And I looked, with a strong swift heart-thrill, MR. MUDDLAR'S MISTAKE. S I am Mr. Muddlar, and the story I am about to tell is one of my own discomfiture, I may as well allow myself in the beginning the privilege of a little explanation. I detest people who are always thrusting themselves and their private affairs upon the public, and still more do I condemn those who are constantly running into stupid mistakes. But all men are liable to err, and in an unforeseen moment I enrolled myself also in the immense army of blunderers. I committed a ghastly mistake which was not so blamable, perhaps, but which has told most unfortunately on my social position. It has, in short, made me ridiculous, and to be made ridiculous is one of the most blighting disasters that can occur to an aspiring young man in fashionable society. Now if I had committed a crime-killed some one, for example, in the heat of passion, or put another man's name to a check for a large amount, I should only have had some temporary difficulty. If my lawyer had not been a sharp one and well feed, I might, perhaps, have been sent to the Penitentiary for a year or so, until a new Governor should have been kind enough to let me out. I might, too, have had some severe things said of me in the papers, but what is that? The mass of mankind would have ignored me completely, and the women, always kind to a young and handsome man, would have pitied me from the bottom of their sensitive little hearts. It was my misfortune, however, not to commit a crime, only to perpetrate a blunder, and for that I must suffer. It was the night of the Prince of Wales's ball, and I, the happy owner of a ticket, had been among the first to avail myself of its advantages. Inwardly thanking fortune that no troublesome sister, aunt, or cousin, could make use of my arm or require my protection, and bother me during that evening of pleasure, I walked into the ball-room a well-dressed, well-looking, and serenely happy individual. To be well-dressed and well-looking is the duty of every one who enters the charmed circle of society; and since my highest ambition has always been to push my way into the most sacred inclosures of distinction, neither of these duties have I ever disregarded. Not being a practical man as far as business is concerned, I did not thwart the inclinations of an uncle, who early offered me an allowance "till I should be able to make my own way in the world." This uncle, who lives up in the country, and is a youngish and active man himself, certainly has no idea of the expenses of living in New York, as I have done, for some years. Still I have been afraid to urge my ideas too strongly upon him, lest he should entirely ignore them, which would be decidedly unpleasant. In the mean time business does not grow, but the claims of society are constant and enormous. I am continually receiving, and continually accepting ball, dinner, and lunch invitations. I can sing a little, and therefore am very useful in amateur concerts and private theatricals, and, indeed, I may say without vanity that I am a leading man in my set. To return to the ball, however. I must freely admit that not merely to appear before royalty, and to obtain my rightful share of Green Seal, had I donned my best dress suit and a three-dollar pair of Jouvin's gloves. I was engaged to Adeline Forbes for the first set, and to meet her, and to close up a little affair that had been some time pending between us, was the principal object of the expense I had incurred. A man in my position, with a soul too large to come down to the dry details of business, and also a taste for elegant life such as I possess, has only one means of escape from the demon of poverty-he must marry an heiress. It is a painful sacrifice, I must admit; but one which, in my case, could not be forgotten or avoided. So, looking around on the "garden of girls" for the best and most eligible parti, I lit upon Adeline Forbes. She was very plain, of course-heiresses always are. She was tall, thin, yellow, and had a particular twang in her voice which thrilled me to the back-bone; but she had many good qualities. In the first place, her property was large, and entirely under her own control; she was generous to a fault; and had, I was certain, a great regard and admiration for me. I had been for a long time hovering on the brink of an offer, and this night I was determined should finish up the proceedings. I therefore hunted her out the very first half hour that I was in the walls of the Academy. She was on the arm of that disgusting fortunehunter, Staples, with a splendid bouquet in her hand, but received me with the utmost pleasure, and a blush that was even more flattering. "You have your bouquet, I see," said I, taking it out of her hand, while Staples retired in disgust. "I suppose you know where it comes from." Now these remarks really mean nothing, and amount to nothing in case the bouquet is sent with a card; but in case of its being an anonymous gift (as flowers so often are), the person speaking gets all the credit. I can not afford to send bouquets, but I might as well get some credit for my wishes, if not for my deeds. Adeline looked down and blushed again. "I think I can guess," she said, archly; "these are your favorite flowers, Mr. Muddlar." "Hit, by Jove!" thought I, but I said nothing. I only smiled and looked up at her (she was considerably taller than I) with a beaming expression. "And what a lovely dress!" I went on to say, and how it becomes you. I never saw you look better than you do at this moment!" This was perfectly true, but Adeline was a fright at the best of times. Just then the music struck up, and I, intent upon closing my business with Miss Forbes before she should be dragged away from me by her impatient part ners, said the fatal words on the spot, and offered myself, heart and hand, to my scraggy goddess in blue and diamonds. Her answer rather astonished me, but was encouraging: "I am somewhat taken by surprise," said she, "although I now see I should have been prepared for this, but I hardly supposed you were a marrying man. Last week I should have accepted you at once; something has occurred to-day, however, in my private affairs, to make me hesitate. You must give me time to think it over." I trembled lest some fall in stocks should have imperiled her fortune. I should not, perhaps, have said any thing, but Adeline was amiable and obtuse, and I thought I could risk it: "I hope," said I, "you are not troubled about any thing important-any miserable money affairs or losses; it is terrible to think of your being unhappy about any thing!" Here she was joined by Staples, who had been dogging her for some time. She had no opportunity for the reply I hoped to hear; however, to keep her a few minutes longer, I proposed joining the great crowd that was going up to be introduced to the Prince of Wales. Everybody remembers the catastrophe of that evening. Just as Adeline and I were advancing toward the dais, there was a sound as if of cannon going off, a sudden stir and tumult among the women, and Adeline Forbes, although on my arm, went down about two feet lower than her accustomed level, and I was left standing high and dry on the uninjured part of the platform. For a moment my usual presence of mind deserted me; instead of immediately hauling her out of the pit, as I should have done, I rather hastened out of the immediate scene of danger, and when I recovered myself and returned to her aid, Staples had pulled her out and carried her away with him. This was certainly a most unfortunate occurrence, but it was one I was powerless to prevent. No one with a particle of sense could be expect ed to run the risk of breaking a leg under such circumstances, and not being a very powerful or stalwart person, had the fair Adeline come down upon any part of my corporeal frame I should have been squeezed into jelly in the space of five minutes. So Staples got the better of me for a time, and I retired discomfited. I may say, however, that I managed to pass the time till supper quite pleasantly, in spite of the disappearance of my fair one. I waltzed with several pretty young girls, who were good dancers, though bad matches. I was not introduced to the Prince myself, though I spoke to many that were; indeed I may claim to have interchanged some words with his Royal Highness in person, although probably unknown to him, for I managed so cleverly that in coming out of the supper-room he nearly knocked me down in the angle where I had taken my position, and when I begged his pardon he told me it was no consequence whatever; which was as much conversation as he exchanged with most of the people that evening. But I now come to the point of my story on which I can no longer dwell with calmness. Certainly the "bottle imp" himself must have arisen out of the glass inclosure from which I took my first draught of Champagne, and firmly, although unseen, attached himself to my fortunes on that night. Never again was I to walk through the mazes of good society an unmarked man, and never to be sure that the smile with which I was greeted by a new acquaintance was not the result of a too intimate knowledge of my fatal mistake. It was just after supper was announced, and I, always ready on a great emergency, had already made friends with a waiter, and was helping myself liberally to the good things provided, when I heard a soft and well-known voice behind me. The words were these: 66 Why, there is Tommy Muddlar! I know him by his hair!" Now I hate to be called Tommy, and allusions to my hair, which has an auburn hue, are decidedly disagreeable; but when the voice that spoke was that of Bessy Graham, the rosycheeked, little country maiden, whom I flirted with when I staid at my uncle's in the summer, and dreamed of all winter long, anger was simply impossible. I flew toward her immediately, with the newly-opened Champagne bottle in my hand. "My dear Miss Bessy! When did you come to town? I am delighted to see you!" The truth was, that was my second bottle of wine, and the unexpected pleasure of meeting my old friend threw me completely off my guard, so I said a great many very foolish things. In the first place, she was as pretty as pretty could be; fresh, fair, and gentle as a newblown daisy, and with that arch, simple coquetry that is so attractive in the young and graceful. Then I well knew that she in her heart of hearts really preferred me to all the rest of the world. In her country home I had shone as a brilliant meteor, summer after summer, before her dazzled eyes, and now she appeared upon my theatre of action, and charmed me in return. Her dress was faultless; how, with her restricted means and country tastes, she could have contrived such a telling toilet I am at a loss to imagine; but there she was, fresh, radiant, and confiding, and all for me! I soon saw that her manner was somewhat distraite, as if some hidden sentiment she dared not divulge were struggling for utterance; and I felt at that moment that I should never marry Miss Forbes, come what might, and that Bessy, with her empty purse, was worth a thousand Adelines rolled into one. The Champagne and sentiment had decidedly affected my mental vision. "Bessy," said I, recklessly, "how is that wonderful uncle of mine? Does he never mean to die and leave me his money?" "You wicked young man!" said she, quite |