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We proceeded to St. Victor, a building of still greater reputed antiquity, being by the learned supposed to be that into which Ambrose refused to admit the guilty Emperor Theodosius. This church is full of fine fresco paintings and altar pieces. Among the rest an Annunciation; and Ambrose interring his brother Satyrus, both by Spagnoletto. In the chapel of the Aresi family is a very highly relieved altar tablet of marble, of which the subject is the Assumption of the Virgin. There is a fine picture by Procaccini in the chapel of the Coeur Sacré, and another in that of St. Benedict, by the same artist. The wood carvings are particularly good. The high altar of the Patron Saint is entirely of marble, and its reliquary enriched with gold and lapis lazuli. But whilst the Virgin and troops of Romish Saints, through the two-fold medium of sculpture and painting, are thus fully emblazoned and continually obtruded on the sight, the Crucifix either escapes notice from its diminutive size, or is placed so high as to challenge only a distant and occasional regard.

As we were inspecting the curiosities at St. Victor's, a procession of ecclesiastics issued from the sacristy, and advancing to the altar of one of the side chapels, performed there "the sacrifice of the mass." This being done, the taper-carriers and cross-bearers led the way before a canopy supported by four acolytes over the head of the officiating priest, who clothed in splendid vestments, held in both hands a cushion on which rested a silver chest, or pix box. A line of persons of both sexes followed, drawling out a monotonous chant, to the running

ceiving the Iron Crown from the Archbishop of the See. Evelyn's Diary. Buonaparte took this Iron Crown and put it on his own head, in 1805.

base of bassoons and serpents. Thus they went up one aisle and down another, whilst brazen censers, swung now at the raised Host and then towards the prostrated congregation, filled the church with the smell of their fuming incense. And this is called devotion! Scarcely. had we reached the street again, when another religious object of a similar kind, attracted our notice and bade us pause. It was the Consecrated Wafer borne by a clergyman towards some neighbouring house; there to be used as the last rites of preparation for some departing soul. On this occasion we evaded the heretical test, by turning abruptly down another thoroughfare: for, since entering the confines of Italy, sufficient opportunities had been afforded us of noticing with what seemingly reverential awe every one without exception, who meets the procession of the sacrament, stops, kneels, and bows the uncovered head, till "the Sacred Presence" has passed by them.

It is impossible to avoid being more or less forcibly impressed with the spectacle of prompt and emphatic obedience to the injunctions of their spiritual directors displayed by the inhabitants of Catholic States. Yet at the same time it does not fail to suggest reflections on the practical result of giving predominance to a religion, whose vast superstructure of influence over the minds of its votaries is raised on "the baseless fabric" of Transubstantiation. The people are first taught to believe that, by the prayer of consecration, the substance of bread and wine is changed into the entire, material, living body of Christ himself both God and man! Then as a necessary consequence, they are required to worship the Sacrament. And though this is done by no ordinance of our Saviour's,

though it is "repugnant to the plain words of Scripture;" though it "overthroweth the nature of a sacrament," and as we here see "hath given occasion to many superstitions ;"* yet may it all be capable of being received by those whose "compendious creed is that of believing whatever the Church of Rome holds and believes."+ But, with this daily-almost hourly-church service, its Hierarchy is not content. From the altar they proceed to carry about and lift up for adoration, in public high ways, the little thin wafer, which they pretend is converted into the incarnation of the Divinity. And by this means they contrive to leave no alternative, between an outward conformity to their practices, or the imminent risk of popular outrage and insult, || to those, in whom, like ourselves for example, such adoration would be an act of idolatry.

In the evening we went to the Canobiana Theatre, which although much inferior in size and splendour to that of La Scala, is yet a large and commodious building. I used to think the French theatres gloomy; and so they are compared with those of London. But the OperaHouse at Paris is really brilliant compared with that of

*See xxvIII Article of the Church of England.

+ Blanco White's Evidences against Catholicism.-p. 9.

On ne peut pas croire aux Papistes, lorsqu'ils déguisent leurs erreurs. Quand on leur reproche l' idolatrie, ils crient au calomniateur et disent, qu'ils n'adorent que Dieu seul. Mais n'adorent ils donc pas le pain, qu'ils consacrent? Ne se prosternent ils pas devant les images, ce qui est l' essence de l'idolatrie? Tout cela est avèrè, et on n'a qu' à aller dans leurs Eglises, et voir leur processions pour en être convaincu."-Demonstrations de la verité de la Religion Protestante. p. 221.

|| The ill treatment recently received from a Priest by a British Officer at Malta, and the decided mark of Papal encouragement given to the ecclesiastical aggressor, shew that this danger is not chimerical:

Milan. The stage is kept in a blaze of light, whilst the house has no illumination whatever, except what proceeds from thence and from a few lustres in the imperial saloon opposite. The performance was "Il Barbiere di Seviglia" of Rossini; in which the Count D'Almaviva appeared but very moderately represented. Bassi was a good Bartolo. And Levasseur a better Basilio. Signora Carolina Pellegrini sang the character of Rosina. This lady has a good voice, and displays superior powers of execution, with much vivacity and address in her acting. Figaro had a very fair representative in Cavara. Yet on the whole I never witnessed a less attentive audience: even with the pit-goer the business of the scene appeared to have very limited attractions. Favoured by the pervading darkness, an incessant buzz of conversation was kept up, that drowned the effect of all except the orchestral music, which was more powerful than harmonious. Between the acts of the opera, a pantomimic ballet was introduced. It was a strange medley of harlequinade, witchery, and "devilry;" not an atom too genteel in some parts, and full of "inexplicable dumb-shew and noise."But it served to rouse the dormant feelings of the parterre; and the practical jokes of the clown upon the "slippered pantaloon" were apparently relished by these tasteful Italians in the same degree that they would have been by the laughter-loving gods of our English galleries.

The reason of the obscurity which prevails in the theatres of this city was explained to us to be as follows:It was in contemplation, some years since, to light the Scala by a magnificent chandelier. But the Dames of Milan signified with one accord their intention of giving their boxes if the scheme were persisted in. In many

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of the boxes, play is carried to an extravagant height. In others, the delicate creatures, enshrined there, receive sweet incense from the lips of their adorers, which is borne to them on an atmosphere redolent of pleasure, and vibrating to melodious strains.

July 24th.-After breakfast we visited the Bibliotheca Ambrosiana, founded by Cardinal Charles Frederick Borromeo (cousin german to St. Charles, and also Archbishop of Milan), whose portrait is preserved in the public reading room, a fine saloon with a high coved ceiling and excellent light. It contains numerous portraits of Saints, Popes, and Prelates-and of learned men connected with Milan. The Prefect of this Library, Peter Mazzucchelli, was seated in the manuscript room. Our entrance with one of the sub-librarians occasioned no interruption to the studies in which he was so deeply absorbed. Dressed in the clerical habit, with the square canon's cap on his head, the appearance of this reverend personage, full of years as well as of learning, made me think of the Kirchers, the Gruters, the Havercamps, the Vaillants, and other indefatigable heroes of literary research, whose ponderous tomes issued from the continental presses in preceding centuries. He has lately edited an elegantly printed work entitled "Flavii Cresconii Corippi, seu de Bellis Lybycis, Libri VII editi ex codice Mediolanensi Massi Trivultii." We were shewn the Rufinus version of Josephus, written in the 4th century on papyrus. A fragment of a manuscript of the 3d century, consisting of two leaves of the Iliad, illuminated. A MS. of the 7th century, beautifully enriched with figures; it is a History of St. Gregory Nazianzen. Pliny's Natural History, curiously illus

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