flections, and tinkling of little bells, and dressings, and undressings, and walking up and coming down the steps of the altar, and bustling about, went on; and which at last terminated in the Cardinals all embracing and kissing each other, which is, I am told, the kiss of peace.

You must be nearly as tired with this account of this long funzione, as I was of seeing it, and it is quite impossible you can be more so.

The procession would really have been worth seeing, if it had taken place in St Peter's Church instead of this confined little chapel and hall, in which, from the crowding and squeezing, the fine dresses, and palm branches, and all the pomp of the pageant, lost their effect.

The palms are artificial, plaited of straw, or the leaves of dried reeds, so as to resemble the real branches of the palm-tree, when their leaves are plaited, which are used in this manner for this ceremony, in the Catholic colonies of tropical climates. These artificial palms, however, are topped with some of the real leaves of the palm-tree, brought from the shores of the Gulf of Genoa.

LETTER LXXIII.

THE HOLY WEEK-THE MISERERE HOLY THURSDAY-PROCESSIONS-THE INTERMENT OF CHRIST -SEPULCHRAL ILLUMINATIONS OF THE POLINA CHAPEL-THE WASHING OF FEET-THE SERVING AT TABLE--THE PENITENZA MAGGIORE THE CROSS OF FIRE-THE ADORATION BY THE POPE AND CARDINALS THE RELICS-ILLUMINATED SEPULCHRE OF CHRIST AT ST ANTONIO DE PORTOGHESI-CONCERT OF SACRED MUSIC.

WE enjoyed three day's relaxation from the toils of the Holy Week; for we did not go to see the body of St Joseph of Arimathea at St Peter's on Tuesday, which we might have done; but on Wednesday evening, in our impatience to secure places for the first Miserere in the Sistine Chapel, we went at three o'clock, and sat waiting nearly an hour and a half, before the service commenced. Even at that hour, however, the gentlemen had difficulty enough in finding standing room, so great was the pressure in the confined space allotted to them. Many were unable to get in from want of room; and many were turned back, from going in

boots or trowsers, instead of silk stockings; for no man may attend this service of religion and penitence, unless he be dressed as if going to a ball; and if he has any description of military uniform, it is highly expedient for him to wear it.

The seats for the ladies are at the lower end of the chapel, where we are caged up behind a gilded grate, like so many wild beasts; being accounted almost as mischievous animals among Popes and Cardinals. We were all dressed according to his Holiness's taste, in black, and with veils; and I am told, we looked like a sisterhood of nuns through the grate.

An elevated place, called the Tribune, appropriated for kings and the princes of royal blood, was occupied by the old ex-King and Queen of Spain, Prince Henry of Prussia, the Queen, and young King of Etruria, the Duke and Duchess of Genoa, the Prince Carignano, the young heir of Turin, and several other sprigs of fresh budding, or blighted, royalty. Behind them sat the foreign ambassadors, all in a row.

When at last the service, which the Italians call the Mattutino delle Tenebre, did commence, nothing could exceed my disappointment. It was in no degree superior to the most ordinary chaunt of a Catholic church; and finding nothing in it to occupy me, I amused myself with watching the illconcealed drowsiness of many of the cardinals, who, having just risen from dinner, seemed to have the greatest difficulty in refraining from taking their customary siesta. Though broad day-light, there

was a row of candles of mourning wax, (of a dark brown, or purple colour,) ranged upon the top of our grate, the utility of which was not very apparent, as they were extinguished before it grew dark. There were also fifteen similar mourning candles, erected on high beside the altar, which, I was given to understand, represented the Apostles and the three Maries, rising gradually in height to the central one, which was the Virgin. As the service proceeded, they were put out one by one, to typify the falling off of the Apostles in the hour of trial; so that at last they were all extinguished, except the Virgin Mary, who was set under the altar.

The shadows of evening had now closed in, and we should have been left almost in total darkness, but for the dull red glare which proceeded from the hidden lights of the unseen choristers, and which, mingling with the deepening twilight, produced a most melancholy gloom.

After a deep and most impressive pause of silence, the solemn Miserere commenced; and never by mortal ear was heard a strain of such powerful, such heart-moving pathos. The accordant tones of a hundred human voices, and one which seemed more than human-ascended together to heaven for mercy to mankind-for pardon to a guilty and sinning world. It had nothing in it of this earthnothing that breathed the ordinary feelings of our nature. It seemed as if every sense and power had been concentered into that plaintive expression of lamentation, of deep suffering, and supplication,

which possessed the soul. It was the strain that disembodied spirits might have used who had just passed the boundaries of death, and sought release from the mysterious weight of woe and the tremblings of mortal agony that they had suffered in the passage of the grave. It was the music of another state of being.

It lasted till the shadows of evening fell deeper, and the red dusky glare, as it issued stronger from the concealed recess whence the singing proceeded, shed a partial, but strong light upon the figures near it.

It ceased-a priest with a light moved across the chapel, and carried a book to the officiating cardinal, who read a few words in an awful and impressive tone.

Then, again, the light disappeared, and the last, the most entrancing harmony arose, in a strain that might have moved heaven itself-a deeper, more pathetic sound of lamentation, than mortal voices ever breathed.

Its effect upon the minds of those who heard it, was almost too all-powerful to be borne, and never -never can be forgotten. One gentleman fainted, and was carried out; and many of the ladies near me were in agitation even more distressing, which they vainly struggled to suppress.

It was the music of Allegri ; but the composition, however fine, is nothing without the voices who perform it here. It is only the singers of the Papal chapel who can execute the Miserere. They have